


A Snake in the Grass

by I_Have_A_Goddamn_Plan



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Before Blackwater, Blow Job, Dutch’s POV, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Goddamn Dutch van der Linde, Humiliation, M/M, Multi, Not so shyly in love with that crazy bastard, Other, Seriously though these cowboys need a happy ending, Threesome, ending rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2019-11-12 09:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 40,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18008618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Have_A_Goddamn_Plan/pseuds/I_Have_A_Goddamn_Plan
Summary: Stationed at their camp outside Blackwater, the Van der Linde gang becomes aware that not everyone among them has their best wishes at heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely love these games and it just gets me how these boys lives fall apart. That said, here’s a big, gay, happy ending! Also, please leave kudos/ comments! If there’s anything that needs to be edited please feel free to let me know! Critics welcome 😁 also this is my first fanfic  
> I do take requests !

 

“Oh hey, Dutch”

He inwardly groaned. Taking the beautiful redhead to bed was a miscalculation on his part.

“Hmm,” Dutch hummed into the page he had been reading for God only knows how long. He heard a heavy sigh come from Molly. _Damn woman_. He had thought he wouldn’t have to explain how this worked.

He snapped his book shut and dropped it on the cot without a word and sauntered over to help himself to some stew.

As he walked he took in their camp. This camp west of Blackwater was damn fine. Spirits were high, money flowing in. Susan kept everything and everyone in tight order, Pearson was happy as there was plenty of bison and whitetail on these plains, Charles was happy bringing haul after haul to him, too.

He noticed one day Susan adding something to Pearson’s stew, for a split second he was wildly suspicious that she’d finally decided to kill them all. She looked around, no doubt feeling the intensity of his glare. When her eyes met his, she smiled, pulled some oregano and thyme from her sleeve and waved it discreetly at him and winked. Dutch had winked back and her and continued reading. Smiling into the pages he thought, So that’s why our meals have been so enjoyable lately.

Dutch was snapped out of his musings. “Hi, Dutch.” Arthur drawled from behind his cup of coffee.

“Hello, Arthur!” Dutch boomed. The sight of his favourite son always swelled his chest with pride.

“Any problems I should know about?” Arthur tilted his head, allowing a few strands of his unruly hair to fall out of place. Dutch was startled as he had to fight the urge to tuck them back into place.

“Not any new ones..” he managed, allowing some darkness to creep into his voice, hoping Arthur wouldn’t notice his internal feud.

Arthur looked at him inquisitively, “Well that’s somethin’.” _Shit,_  thought Dutch,  _he saw for sure._

Dutch turned and stalked away, careful not to move too hastily. Feeling the burn of eyes on his back he made his way over to Hosea and John. He needed some damn distraction, and he was avoiding Molly. He did not want to take her out for a “walk”. Sweet? Sure, but mundane. He didn’t want mundane. He fought the desire to turn and make eye contact with the burning eyes of Arthur Morgan, now scrutinizing his every move. Dutch wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore.

Arranging himself on the log beside Hosea, he looked at John. His second son, such an amazing transformation. Dutch was proud to be able to say he helped him turn into the man he was today, even if he still had some progress to make.

“John! How are you feeling?” He inquired after taking a few bites of his delicious stew. Thank you, Susan!

John refused to look at him. Having just returned after leaving for a year, Dutch hoped that he wasn’t ashamed.

“M’fine, thanks Dutch,” was the mumbled reply, just as he took a generous swig from his beer bottle.

Dutch allowed his voice to drop to its deepest tone. “You know son, all of us have to do some things for ourselves that the people we love either don’t understand,” he paused for dramatic effect, “or refuse the because it hurt their feelin’s, or their pride.”

John looked at him, eyes alight in the glow of the fire. He looked like a man given a lantern in a storm.

“Thanks Dutch,” was all he could manage, words slurring together so they sounded more like one than two.

Dutch hid a chuckle behind his handkerchief, last thing he wanted to do is spit his mouthful of food all over his lap.

“How many have you had there, John?” Hosea piped in for the first time, having watched the whole exchange.

John tilted his head back and laughed. It was more like a howl.

“I dunno, lost count at 12 and a couple whiskies.” He looked at Hosea with a wide grin.

Both of the older men laughed outright at this.

“You always could handle your liquor for such a scrawny feller”

A chill ran up Dutch’s spine. Arthur’s voice was damn near in his left ear. How long had he been standing there? Why hasn’t he noticed?

He made his best effort not to allow the violent shiver up his spine to be noticed, but to no avail. Hosea’s head turned and his eyes studied him as he finished his stew.

“Dutch..?”

_Damnit._

“Yes, my old friend?”

“Cold?” At this Dutch regarded his friend out of the corner of his eye without turning his head.

“No, I don’t think that’s it, Hosea.” He stood and nodded at John and Arthur in turn and make his way to the wash bin with three sets of eyes trained on him this time.

_Damnit, damnit, damnit!_

Hosea had followed him. “What’s that mean, Dutch?” It was phrased as a question but was really demand to explain himself.

A heavy sigh escaped Dutch as he dropped his bowl into the bin. He heard more footsteps. _Arthur_.

“Later.” He hissed glancing in the direction Arthur was coming from. Hose’s brow furrowed in worry. “Don’t look at me like that old man, I just need a distraction!” He put on his best smile and grabbed two beers from the case, one of which he handed to Hosea.

He took it and smiled. Knowing his friend understood, Dutch sighed a breath of relief as they walked toward his tent. Maybe he would set up the gramophone to entertain him for the evening.

“Let’s go out for a bit, you seem cooped up.”

“Why so you can play twenty questions?” Dutch chuckled at his transparency.

“Unless you’d rather sit in your tent where you can be.. overheard..” Hosea’s eyes flicked to Arthur sitting in his tent, watching them from under lidded eyes.

Damn. “You got me,” he sighed. They stood in silence and finished their beers. “Too smart for your own good, Hosea.”

“Lets go before you chicken out.”

“What d’you take me for, Hosea? Never understood that phrase, anyway. Chickens are far from cowards!” Dutch laughed and headed toward the Count. The horse was his equine equal. Loves seldom, tolerates few and is downright savage with the rest.

“Hey there, handsome.” He ran his hand along his horses neck under the mane, being sure to give a scratch in just the right places. He checked the Count’s hooves, noticing a small rock had just barely lodged between the hoof and shoe. Thank god he checked his mount’s feet regularly, that stone could have done serious damage.

Hosea has already mounted Silver Dollar so he quickly slipped his beast a sugar cube and hauled himself up.

“Where we headed?” Dutch inquired.

“Got a nice little camp spot with a good fishing pond. I packed up some beer and liquor and figured we could spend the night out. Told Grimshaw while you were foolin’ with your horse’s feet.”

“Yeah he picked up a stone, nothin’ to worry about.”

He could see Hosea nod. They rode in silence for a while, finally approaching a narrow river.

“Now we travel up a mile or so and there’ll be a nice wooded area surrounding a pond.”

“Alright.” Dutch’s nerves we’re on end. Why, though, he didn’t know.

Finally, some woods came into view, they slowed their horse to a walk and dismounted. Setting up camp with Hosea was like a second nature, they had done it thousands of times. Camp was set up in a matter of minutes with a fire starting to burn.

Hosea took his fishing rod from his horse’s saddle. “Lets fish!”

Dutch grinned and followed, “hopefully the fish are bigger than the pond.” His eyes scanned the landscape.

“If not we can find us a meal at least,” Hosea reasoned. “Good excuse if anyone wants to know where we went. I’m sure you don’t want to tell them you had to get away for a bit.”

They stood at the edge of the pond a few feet apart.

Dutch focused on baiting and casting his line. “You’re right about that. I’m not sure that’s what it is though.” He sighed heavily. He didn’t think how he was feeling was ok.

 _Hes my son for Chrissakes_.

“What?” Hosea turned and looked at him, eyes wide.

“Shit.” He had spoken aloud.

“Arthur? What about him? You’ve been so different around him lately, Dutch. You won’t talk with him. Why?” Hosea fired off questions, obviously concerned something was seriously wrong. It is, but not with Arthur.

Dutch sighed again, “I don’t know, Hosea. Its nothin’ he’s done or is doing, nothin’ like that at all” his voice caught.

His friend’s tone softened. “Okay, walk me through it, then?”

He put down his fishing rod, he was doing terribly anyway, wrong bait maybe. When he opened his mouth the words poured out in hushed exasperation. “He’s my goddamn son, and the things I’ve been thinking about doin’ to him just ain’t right. I want him, Hosea.”

There, he’d finally said it. He felt better until Hosea started laughing.

“HOSEA!” He wasn’t about to hit an old man but he definitely wanted to cuff the sassy old fart.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dutch. I’m just relieved, I though something was seriously wrong and it’s so simple.”

 _Simple_? “What the hell about this is simple?!” He growled out, clearly his friend didn’t get it.

“It’s not like he’s actually your blood, Dutch. Everyone has role models in many different people. Some boys even enjoy calling their male partner daddy.” Hosea looked at him with an expression of wisdom mixed with amusement.

“Hosea, I don’t want to know how you know that,” he said chucking at the older man. He supposed it made sense, many of the women he had laid with had enjoyed calling him daddy. “So...” he trailed off, not sure where he intended to go with it.

“Don’t fret so much, seen him lookin’ at you the same way, my boy.” A cheeky smile spread across his face as he turned back to the pond. He wondered what else the observant man had noticed. Hosea reeled in his line, “I’m going back to camp. Want me to send Arthur your way?”

Dutch froze. He considered this while he watched the moon dance on the little waves.

“Yes.” He said with conviction as he looked at Hosea, who was smiling at him.

He scanned the stars through the tree canopy as his dear friend packed up his few things and smiled. He liked how today had gone from tedious to exciting. His body thrummed with anticipation. What would happen when Arthur arrived?

“Alright. See you later,” with a smile on his voice. He hopped on Silver Dollar and with a quiet “hyaa” was off into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally allowing their feelings for each other, Dutch and Arthur are interrupted.

The sun was setting as Dutch sat, back against a tree, watching the fish under the surface. His senses were on hyper alert, ears yearning for the sound of hooves on soft grass.

Crickets chirped and he noticed a whitetail buck edging toward the river on the opposite side of the pond.

 _Wow,_ he thought, _I must have been sitting longer than I thought._

He stayed statue still as the buck drank its fill of water and raised its head to look at him. As he made eye contact with the creature he heard the soft thud of telltale hooves.

Looking over at the approaching figure, he recognized his boy immediately and a large grin spread over his face. Arthur halted his mount and nodded at the buck, still watching them intently from his confident but cautious stance from across the water. He decided to be on his way with the added presence of Arthur and his horse, softly crashing through the bullrushes and cattails.

“That feller been standin’ there watchin’ you the whole time I was comin’ down that hill there. Swung by town.” Arthur explained as he swung a leg over Boadicea. He patted his favoured mount and removed he rather full looking saddlebags.

“Yeah it was quite somethin’! Not very often you get that close without meetin’ their antlers too,” Dutch chuckled. “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh, jus’ grabbed a few things. Some whiskey, couple bottles of rum and some decent meat. This pond here ain’t no fishing haven that’s for sure. Never been sure what Hosea likes about it. Tiny smallmouth and some bluegill.” Arthur babbled on. Dutch watched him closely, unabated. _Was his strong, silent son jabbering like a nervous maiden?_  He dared not assume.

“I think that was a fine idea, son. You’re right too, I couldn’t catch a single bite, Hosea swears he felt nibbles but I’m not sure I believe the man.” Dutch barked out with a laugh.

“Sure is a nice view.” Arthur was looking intently out over the pond, framed with trees with the moon reflecting in the still waters.

“Probably why he likes it. Peaceful. Don’t think he worries about catching too much.” Dutch sighed, tossing a sizeable log on the fire.

“Somethin’s buggin’ you, ain’t it, Dutch?” Arthur’s eyes focused on him and he took a deep breath.

“Yes and no, son.” He looked as confused as Dutch felt. He wondered if Hosea may have been mistaken.

“Well if I done somethin’ then tell me, you been avoidin’ me like the plague.” Arthur’s voice sounded course and hurt as he tossed the venison on the little grill he had brought.

With a little bit of a groan, Dutch rose and stretched, his muscles stiff from sitting so long against the unforgiving tree.

“Its not like that, Arthur” his voice soft and deep as he made his way around the fire and sat on the bedroll beside the younger man. Dutch watched as he froze, enjoying the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he considered what that might mean.

Arthur spoke barely above a whisper, “What’s it like then?” He turned and searched Dutch’s eyes for an answer, firelight casting heavy shadows across his face.

The smell of nearly burning food brought them back to reality before Dutch could answer him.

“Oh, shit!” Arthur grumped, “if I burnt it, I swear to god...”

Dutch moved as close as he dare to him and peeked over at their late dinner. “Nah, that looks perfect, son.” This got a big smile from Arthur as he passed the delicious smelling meat to him.

“Mmm,” he groaned into his first bite, “perfect indeed!”

Arthur chuckled and shook his head, still not looking at him.

“What’s so funny, m’boy?” Dutch asked in between bites.

That got him a sideways glance as Arthur gazed into the fire. “You are, Dutch. Always makin’ fuss over everythin’,” he said fondly.

Quirking an eyebrow, “Is that so? What if - I wanted to make a fuss over you?” Dutch sounded more confident than he felt, eyes boring intensely into Arthur.

He took a moment to gauge the situation. Arthur was nervous, slightly perspiring, even in the cool evening. His eyes moved around his surroundings as if looking for escape routes if necessary. Elbow resting on his knee with a smoke in the opposite hand, his outward calm was definitely forced.

“I asked you a question, son.” Some of the darkness creeping into his voice again.

Blue eyes snapped to his golden brown ones. Arthur drew a shakey breath.

“ _More than you know.”_

This time, Dutch allowed himself to indulge. Gently, he brushed the unruly hairs back behind his ear and allowed his thumb to grazed Arthur’s cheekbone before settling on the back of his neck.

They sat motionless for a few moments. Each trying to gain some silent answer from the other. Arthur hadn’t pulled away, he seemed to lean into the touch. Just centimetres apart, their quick breath hung between them, adding to the tension.

Dutch was done waiting, he prided himself on being strategically patient. His eyes travelled from Arthur’s eyes to his lips and he leaned in, half expecting to get punched in the jaw, half expecting to be pinned on his back and ravaged by this beast of man.

As their lips touched, Dutch felt fire run through his entire body, settling in the pit of his stomach. What he didn’t expect was a strong hand winding into his hair and pulling him close. A deep groan rumbled against him as Dutch put his hand on the inside of Arthur’s thigh, slowing inching up toward the growing bulge in his pants.

Soft and tender at first, their kiss deepened, Arthur falling back onto the grass. He was laying crossways on top of the bedroll with Dutch now leaning over him, locked in a passionate, if not desperate kiss. Arthur’s hands puled at his tucked shirt, sliding his hands underneath. Moaning into the kiss, he explored Arthur’s body, hand sliding all over his large chest and shoulders and travelling down. Finally reaching their destination, he started to rub against Arthur’s hard cock the the fabric of his jeans.

As Arthur’s head fell back he let out a loud moan. Dutch smirked, this was better than he’d imagined during some very inopportune moments.

“You like-“

“What the hell!”

_Micah._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micah is an idiot.

“Wha’s he doin’ here? I’ll kill him.” Arthur growled from underneath him.

Dutch stood, waving him off. “Is there somethin’ you need, Mr. Bell?” He drawled.

Micah sat atop his horse, white as a sheet, “An explanation! Never took you for a -“

“Watch your mouth, there boy,” he snarled and pulled the man off Baylock, who wheeled and sped off into the night.

“What the hell!”

“That all you can say?” Arthur towered over Micah who was scrambling the get into a sitting position.

Recognition hitting his eyes, he laughed. It was a grating sound. “Should have known you’d be slobberin’ in the bosses lap, cowpoke.” He spat at Dutch’s feet, nearly hitting his boot. Fire burned in his eyes as he swung and kicked Micah square in the side of the head.

_Thud._

“Ouuuch. Was that necessary?”

“Absolutely. You fool.” Dutch paced around him like a cougar circling his food. He stopped behind him and leaned in nearly an inch from his ear. Micah audibly swallowed against the lump in his throat, staring directly into Arthur’s eyes.

“You know, you’ve been gettin’ on my nerves..” Dutch purred.

Micah shuddered as Arthur laughed.

“You got no idea what I could do to you, boy.” This seemed to snap Micah out of his frozen state. His head snapped to the side.

“I don’t doubt it, fudgepacker.” He sneered at Dutch.

Dutch tilted his head back and howled with laughter.

“You really are dull aren’t you? Do you think I want you around with this attitude?” Dutch’s head tilted to the side, eyes bearing down into Micah’s. Fear rose in them. “Dutch, please-“

Rising from his place where he had knelt beside the man, Dutch laughed. “How easy it was to make you beg, Micah. You ruined our nice evening,” hand waving dramatically at the scene before Micah.

“Now what am I supposed to do,” Dutch paused, pointing at him, “with you?”

Nothing but the crickets and the babbling of the nearby river stirred the night. Micah looking back and forth between Dutch and Arthur.

“Dutch, I’ll just go, please, I didn’t mean-“ he stammered.

The back of a large, ring clad hand came down hard on the side of his face.

“Shut it, boy.” Dutch growled.

“What are ya plannin’ on doin’ with him?” Arthur drawled, “Good shot but mouthy and useless otherwise. ‘Cept for harrassin’ the women.”

Thumbs slung through his belt loops, Dutch considered the terrified man on the ground before him. He was trapped, Baylock was long gone. He only had one pistol and there were two of them. No one was a better shot than Dutch, and Arthur was a close second.

Arthur decided to take this moment to reach into his satchel for a cigarette. The second he was distracted Micah lunged at Dutch, but he was ready for him. Drawing his Schofield, he smashed the butt into Micah’s cheekbone. An angry red gash opened up and the man dropped, knocked clean out.

“Sorry, Dutch. He moves damn quick.”

“That’s okay, Arthur. I was ready for him. Wanted him to, frankly. Now there’s more than one reason to get rid of the fool.” Dutch shook his head, “have half a mind to string him up in camp and make an example of him.”

Arthur visibly paled at this. “What about the others? Ya know he’s gonna run his mouth.”

Dutch whistled for his horse, and in less than a few seconds the white stallion was standing at attention beside him. Pulling the rope off the saddle, he hogtied Micah and removed his pistol and knives. Idiot left most of his weapons on the saddle. Fleetingly, he wondered if Micah’s horse would return to camp.

“Well Arthur, judging from Hosea’s attitude earlier today, he himself has indulged in the pleasures of another man. John’s been lustin’ after you for how many years now?”

Arthur chuckled, “Yea, I dunno ‘bout that. Person and Bill can’t say shit neither.”

“That’s right, army boys. And this fine fellow at our feet will serve as a warning also. There’s a reason why the carrot and the stick works with people too.” A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes. He made his way over to Arthur, steps deliberate, determined.

This time, Arthur didn’t hesitate. He closed the space between them in seconds, one hand tangled in the dark curls, the other on his waist, pulling Dutch against him, hard.

Feeling Arthur’s body against him was something he had secretly longed for. Dutch moaned, opening his lips and deepening this kiss. His tongue gently touching, exploring-

“Please tell me I’ve died and gone to hell.” Micah snarled, ruining the moment, yet again.

Dutch presses his forehead to Arthur’s, not opening his eyes.

“This is the second time you have interrupted my evening Micah, and it will be the last. Arthur? Could you please start packing up camp, son?”

Before he could answer Micah spat, “That’s rich! Got your tongue down your “son’s” throat. John your butt boy too?” Micah’s eyes narrowed in thought, “Or are you the pillow biter?”

Dutch pulled the kerchief from his vest pocket and looked around. He opened his saddle bag and found the rag he used to clean his guns.  _Perfect._

Absently, he balled up the kerchief and folded the cloth into a strip instead of an awkwardly long rectangle.

“You sound jealous Micah.”

Immediately the man looks down and away from both Dutch and Arthur.

“I think you’re right.” Arthur said incredulously. Both men laughed. Even without seeing Micah’s face, they both knew than man was horrified, and that they were right. His silence spoke more than any insult he could have thrown at that moment.

“Well let’s get on with it.” Dutch moved forward, the strip of cloth in his teeth and the kerchief in his left hand. He grabbed a fistful of the man’s hair and noted how he didn’t struggle in the slightest now. “Open your mouth, Micah. And trust me, it’s not for the reason you desire.”

Micah opened his mouth to say “Fuck you” but barely got the first syllable out before Dutch’s kerchief was jammed inside, barely fitting. Before he had the chance to cough it out Dutch wrapped the folded cloth around and tied it tight at the back of his head.

“Look Arthur, I finally found a way to shut him up!” Dutch chucked, “Let’s get goin’. I’m sure the rest of camp would like to hear about his pathetic attempt on my life.”

He decided to check Micah’s pockets again, not wanting him to get out of his bonds because of a hidden knife at any point on the ride back to their camp. As he went to check the breast pocket of Micah’s coat he started to struggle.

“What do you have in there that you don’t want me to see?” Dutch purred, “You’re not going to get away from me.”

He gripped the front of Micah’s jacket and slammed him into the ground. Dutch dove his hand inside to find what the fool had tried to hard to hide.

He removed a small rectangle of stiff paper. A dirty business card.

“What is it, Dutch?”

“A business card? Looks like a couple names but it’s too dark with the fire out now. I’ll have a look when we get back to camp.” He tucked it in his vest pocket and hauled Micah onto the Count.

“This horse ain’t too keen on carryin’ people. If you get thrown, well, pray you don’t see his heels.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang finds out about a few things..

The ride was blessedly free of Micah’s idle chatter. Dutch took the time to assess the situation.  _How would people react? Was he ready? Was Arthur?_

_Oh shit, he hadn’t thought about Molly._

Arthur must have been reading his mind. “What about Miss O’Shea?”

“Well, if she wants to continue having my company she better keep her mouth shut.” Dutch tried to say lightly. More likely than not, the daft woman would put up some sort of jealous fit. _Oh well_.

“So what’s that plan, then?”

He considered this, “I planned on being totally honest. I don’t think our family will care, son. Might be some jealousy, but that’s handled easily enough.”

His companion’s shoulders visibly relaxed as he smiled.

As they neared the camp Javier came out of the woods, “Dutch! Somethings wrong, Micah’s horse came back without him,” he exclaimed.

“Sell it, he won’t be needing it no more.” Arthur quipped, a chuckle in his voice.

“What’s that mean?” Javier sounded genuinely confused, though Dutch couldn’t see his expression in the dim light of the waning moon.

They slowed as they drew close enough to be able to see each other and Javier noticed the body on the back of the Count.

“Who’s that?!”

“Join us in camp, Javier, all your questions will be answered soon enough.” Dutch clicked at his mount to continue up the path at an even trot, closing the distance quickly. Despite the risk of getting yelled at by Susan, he rode straight to the centre of camp.

Dismounting, he hauled the heavy man off the Count and swatted his rump. “Off you go, boy.” To which the horse snorted and trotted off on his own business.

With Micah on his shoulder he sauntered to one of the few trees in their camp and dumped the poor fool at the base of it.

“Arthur would you mind stringin’ up our ‘friend’ here? Please?”

At that moment Javier joined them. “Wait, is that _Micah_?”

“Yes, Javier. And I’m only explainin’ this once, so you’re gonna have to wait til everyone else joins us. Patience, my son.” He waved him off and rose his voice to wake the camp.  
“Everyone out here! Now! We have a problem. Abigail? Keep Jack inside your tent please. John, I’d like it if you joined the rest of us.”

There was moans and protests from around the camp. Dutch took out the business card he had found and looked at it in the light of the lantern hanging from the outside of his tent. Most of it was unreadable except-

_Pinkerton Detec-_

“NOW! We have a RAT.” He bellowed, voice cracking. Anger boiled through him as he stood there staring at the name. It all made sense.

“Wha-“ Arthur had come up to him and taken the card. “Shit.”

Dutch took the card back and stalked toward Micah, who was now on his knees, hands and feet bound crossways behind the tree. The gang gathered loosely and sleepily, taking in the scene. When those around him realized exactly who was tied to the tree they started asking questions all at once.

“Ladies and GENTLEMEN! If you would all kindly settle down, we can get on with the explanation of why this piece of trash isn’t just dead somewhere?”

Silence hung in the camp. No one dared breathe, not even Micah. Hosea was standing beside Dutch with a concerned look building in his eyes.

Dutch turned at Arthur and got a small nod. He took a long look at the people he loved, and a deep breath.

“I left camp earlier with Hosea, frustrated, then was joined by Arthur after the old man headed back to camp.” Dutch rose his chin and set his jaw. “As it may seem, Arthur and I have discovered a new depth to our relationship, which this lovely fellow so kindly interrupted.” He looked over at Arthur and briefly caught his eyes before he winked and continued over the murmurs in the small crowd.

“Mr. Bell here didn’t seem to appreciate this. Like it really affects, or has anything to do with him, right? Wrong, apparently. After slewing some insults, I pulled him down off Baylock. Some pointless conversation ensued, and our dear friend here decided to try to jump me while Arthur wasn’t looking. You can see how that turned out for him.”

Every member of the group stood at rapt attention, some looked shocked, most just wide eyed and anticipating the conclusion of this ridiculous encounter.

Dutch raised the little card. “After I hogtied him, I took his weapons and also found this. A PINKERTON business card.” He passed it off to Susan, who looked about ready to explode.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Fucker!”

“Rat!”

The gang chorused, responses overlapping each other.

Dutch put an arm around Arthur’s waist and leaned into him, the younger man’s arm coming to rest on his shoulder.

Susan approached, venom in her eyes and voice,”What’re we doin’ with ‘im then?”

“Not sure yet. I’m thinkin’ leave him like that a day or two and come up with somethin’ to make him tell us what he told ‘em.”

Susan nodded, “I’ll take first shift watching him. Don’t trust him not to try to get off to his boys in Blackwater.” She looked at Arthur and smiled, “Mister Morgan, can I borrow your shotgun?”

Arthur beamed, “Course. Can keep it ma’am.” Pulling it off his back, he handed it to her. She looked between the two of them and smirked.

“Thank you. You boys go back to ‘explorin’ new depths’.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 😏

Dawn was starting to lighten the sky. Dutch gazed off into the distance as he waited for Arthur to join him by his tent. He was a little shell shocked with all that had happened in the last six hours. 

“Dutch?” He nearly jumped clean out of his skin, dropping a large ash from his cigar in the process. 

“Yes son?” He said smoothly. 

“Should lie down for a bit.” A sly smile. 

“That so?” He tossed the end of his cigar and headed inside the tent after Arthur, tying the flaps closed behind him. 

Arthur had changed into bedclothes and proceeded to make himself comfortable. Stretched out on the cot, he was smoking a finely rolled cigarette. Molly was nowhere to be found. 

“You really think he’s jealous?” 

Cracking a crooked smile he looked over at Arthur. “Yes, absolutely.” 

Hanging his gun belt on a hook, he settled onto the cot stretching, joints popping here and there. 

“If it wouldn’t have been the first time I’d have made him watch as I fucked you. A hard dick tells no lies.” Dutch chuckled, “Though he’d be dreaming if he thought I’d touch his greasy hide, rat or not.” 

Laughter rolled around camp along with a shout by Bill, “Fellers gone and pissed hisself!” 

Both men chuckled, it would be easy to break Micah. It was in a rat’s nature to talk. 

“Maybe we can still screw with ‘im that way...” Arthur’s sly tone surprised him. 

That made his mind go into overdrive with all the possibilities. How exciting this night has become. Still lost in his musings, he didn’t notice Arthur until he had reached over and turned his chin toward him. He scarcely had a second to note the expression of unbridled lust before the bear of a man was on top of him. Tongue invading his mouth, hands roaming his body. God, he could live this moment forever. 

Passion burned between them. Dutch could feel the gentle scratch of stubble against his own, his hands returning to their fervent exploration that had started hours earlier around a quiet campfire. Camp was rising to greet the day around them, though they could have been back in the quiet of the night for all the attention they paid it. 

Tension building within him, he swiftly switched their positions. A gasp escaped Arthur. 

“Stronger than you look.” He grunted fondly. 

Dutch smirked at him, “Are you sayin’ I look weak, son?” 

Arthur’s eyes widened. “No, ‘course not.” 

He had pinned the younger man beneath him, both breathing hard. Dutch’s mouth came down hard and demanding. His hands travelled to the buttons on Arthur’s shirt and when they weren’t cooperating to his liking, he simply tore the shirt open, scattering most of the buttons in the process. 

Arthur was more careful, making sure to neatly undo the buttons of his vest and shirt before sliding them both off his shoulders. Dutch tossed them to the side and at the same moment, Arthur sat up slightly underneath him and did the same. 

“What a fine sight this is,” Dutch purred, “Not sure why I waited so damn long.” 

He watched as Arthur’s eyes took him in. They travelled from his broad muscled chest as his hands rose, fingers delicately moving through the fine dusting of hair there to pinch his nipples. 

“Damn..” Dutch groaned, his own hands moving to his belt. 

His every move was watched intently. He removed himself from his position atop Arthur to drop his jeans and underwear, eyes sliding sideways to catch his reaction. 

Arthur looked surprised. He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the cot. Without missing a beat he took Dutch’s length in his hand and started caressing slowly, purposefully, causing his head to fall back at the sudden contact. 

He grabbed the back of Arthur’s hair and growled, “Put it in your mouth, son.” 

Arthur obeyed immediately, eyes fluttering closed as he hummed around his cock. 

“You ever sucked cock before?’ He stuttered out as Arthur started to bob his head more, going farther and farther down. He pulled off, shook his head and returned to his task. 

Damn he looked fucking good. “So eager. You’ve been thinking about this.” Arthur’s eyes flashed up to meet his own. He pulled Arthur to a standing position and dropped to his knees. 

“D-Dutch..?” His jaw dropped, “I never thought-“ 

“Hush now, boy,” he said, cutting off whatever nonsense Arthur was about to come out with when he pull down his pants with a jerk. His cock was rock hard already, dripping just the slightest amount of pre-cum. Wasting no time, Dutch’s eyes met Arthur’s as he slowly licked the moisture off the tip, enjoying the salty taste. 

Head tilting toward the sky, Arthur’s hands tangled in Dutch’s hair, gripping hard as he took as much as he could in his mouth. A low moan came from Arthur as he thrust into the older man’s mouth, causing him to gag. 

Spit dripping down his chin, he closed his eyes and worked up and down, hand pumping. Dutch rubbed his tongue on the sensitive spots as Arthur’s other hand gently wiped the dribble off his face. 

“Look good down there, Dutch.” A twinkle in his eye. His own snapped open, burning bright. Slowly releasing Arthur’s cock he stood. Head tilted, Dutch eyed his neck. He grabbed Arthur’s chin and tilted his head slightly from side to side. 

He moved in, biting down hard, sucking and twisting the skin. Arthur hissed and wrapped his arms around him tightly. The cot creaked in protest as they fell onto it together. 

“Shit, hurts, Dutch?” Arthur stammered. A laugh rumbled through his chest as he intensified his efforts. He felt Arthur’s cock twitch against his stomach so he continued, moving down his neck. He grabbed Arthur’s thick length and started to slowly jerk it. Picking up speed he let go of his neck and smiled at his handy work. His neck had a dark red and purple spot, about two inches wide, running from his ear to the hollow of his throat. 

“Looks good on you, Arthur.” 

“Possessive bastard.” He laughed full and loud as he continued to pleasure his boy. Watching his face, he removed his hand and brought his fingers to Arthur’s mouth. 

“Open up.” He shoved two of them in to the knuckle, rings clanking against teeth as Arthur gagged. Moving them in and out slowly, he didn’t break eye contact. “Do you know what’s coming next, son?” 

“Mhmm” Came the muffled reply. 

“Do you want me to take you?” 

“Please.” Arthur sounded desperate around his fingers. 

“That’s my boy.” Dutch thrust his fingers down his throat one more time, getting them sufficiently coated.

He kneeled beside the cot, Arthur watched curiously. “Legs up,” he ordered. He spread Arthur open and touched his tongue to the ring of muscle, earning a gasp from his partner. Licking and teasing, he continued until Arthur was relaxed and ready. Dutch watched the man’s face as he slowly inserted the top of his finger to the first knuckle. 

“Fuck!” Arthur slapped a hand over his own mouth. Dutch smirked. So fucking hot. 

He continued opening up Arthur’s ass, getting it ready for him. His cock ached, cum slowly dripping from the tip. Slowly, he added a second finger, and grinned when Arthur’s head fell back onto the cot as he moaned long and loud. After a few thrusts he withdrew his fingers, not able to wait any longer. 

He stood and climbed on top of Arthur, hungrily kissing hip lips then moving to his neck. He wondered if Arthur would be able to handle him, he wasn’t a small man. 

We’ll soon find out. 

Looking down to make sure he didn’t hurt his new lover, he lined himself up. Dutch smiled an evil grin back up at Arthur. 

“Ready, son?” He felt the twitch of Arthur’s dick at the words. 

“Y-yes.”

He pushed the tip of his cock inside and Arthur yelped. He stopped, letting him get used to the feeling as well as his size. 

“Keep goin’,” Arthur pleaded. 

That was all Dutch needed. He snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside his boy. 

“Fuck, Arthur!” Dutch groaned as he started to pump into him, slowly increasing his speed and depth. 

“Think you can take all of me?” 

Arthur’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he moaned, “Yes, please, give it to me, Dutch.” 

Heavy breaths hung in the air as Dutch pushed the rest of his cock inside of Arthur. 

“God fucking damnit!” He started to thrust more quickly now, feeling the build of his orgasm. The man beneath him was a whining mess. 

“Gonna fill you, son. You’re mine now,” he all but snarled into Arthur’s ear, pulling a guttural sound from Arthur’s chest. 

“Fuck yes! Don’t know how bad I want that Dutch. All yours. Whatever you want,” the words came out choppy and breathless. 

Dutch growled and started pounding into him like some two bit whore. He wrapped one hand in the long strands of Arthur’s hair, pulling his head to expose the unmarked side of his neck. 

“All mine,” and he bit, hard, at the same time wrapping his ringed hand around Arthur’s cock. He pumped in unison with his thrusts, still sucking and biting without apprehension. 

Arthur’s moans made it even better. None of the earlier modesty colouring his reactions, he was lost in the pleasure. Dutch loved it, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing around them. 

Finding the tender spot under his ear, Dutch bit again, drawing blood this time. Arthur cried out and it was too much, the building pressure suddenly hitting its climax. He growled as he came, feeling Arthur’s cock twitch. Hot, sticky cum splattered onto his hand and stomach, he continued pounding down as they orgasmed together. 

Dutch slowed, looking into Arthur’s eyes, he grinned. Pulling out, he sighed. Cum leaked down the crack of his ass. Giving him a solid slap on the ass he reached for a kerchief and cleaned up. 

“Thanks,” Arthur gave him a lopsided grin. “Somehow still manage to be a gentleman.”


	6. Chapter 6

Coffee. He needed coffee. Dutch didn’t usually drink coffee but the sun was up, and he wasn’t going back to sleep just yet. 

Arthur had dressed and was sitting having a smoke. Dutch didn’t bother to fully dress, having just thrown on clean underwear and trousers. Pulling on his boots he untied the tent. 

“You’re goin’ out there like that?” 

He turned and winked at Arthur and ducked out into the sunshine. 

Lifting a hand, he squinted at the sun. Was almost midday. He chuckled to himself and made his way over to the coffee percolator. 

Dutch could feel eyes on his bare back. 

Just wait til they saw what I did to Arthur’s neck, he thought to himself. 

He whistled as he poured a cup of strong coffee. Hosea approached from across the camp. The old man had a satisfied look on his face. 

“Well done, old girl. Looks like you were right again.” Dutch smiled at him from across the rim of his coffee cup. 

“You must have enjoyed yourself, you never admit I’m right so freely, Dutch.” There was a hint of teasing in his tone. 

He laughed and took a long drink. 

“Not that there was any doubt. Think everyone for five miles heard you. Molly is pretty upset.” 

Dutch nearly snorted coffee out his nose at that. 

Had they really been that loud? 

Hosea chuckled at his reaction, “Well if there was any doubt about your, ah, abilities, there isn’t now,” he winked and looked over at Arthur, who had approached, coffee mug in hand. Hosea let out a low whistle. 

“Jesus Dutch.” His eyebrows were almost in his hairline. 

Dutch laughed again, the sound booming across camp and rousing a sleeping Micah. 

“Should see the other side,” he said, smirking at Arthur. Hosea walked around him, eyes scanning his neck. 

“You need a rabies shot or something?” Hosea exclaimed, almost reaching out to touch the bite mark where Dutch has drawn blood. 

Licking his hips, he could almost taste the copper still. He watched as Arthur poured a coffee for himself and straightened up, clearly sore in several places. 

“Haven’t looked myself yet.” He said dismissively. 

A broom handle collided with his butt. He smiled. Only one person that could be. 

“Miss Grimshaw? To what do I owe the pleasure?” Struggling to keep the laughter from his voice, lest it rile her up more. 

Susan had her eyes on Arthur’s neck. “You’re a damn animal.” 

Dutch looked at her and winked. “That’s somethin’ you already knew, Miss.” Her cheeks flushed and she waved the broom at him. 

“Turn on the damn gramophone next time.”

He couldn’t hold it any longer and burst out laughing. “Yes ma’am!” 

Muffled shouts were coming from Micah, who was no doubt getting sore by now. 

“Lets go see what our friend has to tell us.” Their little group made their was over. Dutch grabbed a chair and set it backwards a few feet in front of the terrified man. 

“Good morning! I hope our change in hospitality hasn’t surprised you.” He straddled the chair and looked at Micah. The fool refused to lift his head. 

Dutch looked at the last sip of coffee and tossed it at Micah. Good on him, he didn’t scream, but he did lift his head. 

“That’s better. Did you enjoy your new accommodations? You see, I can handle a man who doesn’t understand his own tiny mind, but what I don’t tolerate, is a rat that tries to kill me.” 

Micah’s eyes widened. “We’re gonna have some fun with you, son.” Dutch winked at him and stood. “Your cock is hard, Micah. You want me to hurt you?” 

The man was visibly trembling, and he was indeed growing hard in his torn and dirty pants. Dutch approached. 

“‘Cause that’s the only way you’re gonna feel my hands on you.” He pulled his fist back and slammed it hard into Micah’s cheekbone. 

“Get a load of this boys! Poor confused feller screaming insults after seeing me with Arthur, and now, oh, now look at him! Dick is hard as a rock as I beat him bloody.” Dutch laughed and lifted his head by the hair. “Now, I know you’re jealous, you look at what I did to that boy’s neck, I’m sure your cock was hard as fuck this morning listening to me fuck Arthur too.” 

Micah closed his eyes, almost in tears. 

“Your turn, Arthur.” 

Arthur walked forward and swiftly kicked him right between the legs.  
Dutch quickly undid the gag and Micah started throwing up. 

Dutch patted his shoulder. “You’ll be alright, son.” He tied the gag back in place and walked off smiling, “Beat him til he passes out, boys. Arthur, come on. I need a nap.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micah’s Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Extreme violence and sexual humiliation

Dutch was asleep in a matter of minutes. Micah’s screams hadn’t lasted long. Bill was having far too much fun for that. He woke at nightfall, Arthur resting quietly beside him. Grunting as he rose, he smiled. This was where it got fun. 

“Gonna go bug the rat some more?” Arthur’s comment was heavy with drowsiness. 

“Yes. You’re coming too, Arthur.” Looking at his companion slyly he smirked. Pulling himself off the bed he waved a hand at Arthur, “Don’t get dressed.” 

His boy looked surprised. “Why’s that?” 

“Have some faith son. I got a plan, and this time, it’s a good one.” Dutch marched out of the tent, eyes afire. “Anyone who doesn’t want to see me torture this fool in one of the most vulgar ways possible, better leave. Now!” 

The wagon was loaded up. Abigail, Jack, Karen, Charles, Pearson, Tilly, Hosea and Lenny all headed for Blackwater.

Scanning the faces of those who remained, Dutch smiled. Those who he wanted to be here had stayed. Bill, John, Javier, Arthur, and not to forget Susan, who was probably the most savage of them all. Davey and Mac were off doing god only knew what. 

“Alright ladies and gentlemen. This ain’t gonna be nice. I don’t take kindly to being called names, especially when this greasy fuck is wanting everything, oh, and I mean everything, I could give.” Dutch ripped at his hair, forcing Micah to look him in the eye. “Well, you’re about to get as close as you would have ever gotten, son. Someone beat him, I want him to stay conscious.” 

Susan stepped forward with a heavy bull whip. “Mister Bell, if I had my way, your brains would be splattered on a rock somewhere. I’ll settle for this.” 

As she raised her hand, Bill shuffled forward and tore Micah’s shirt open. Guffawing loudly, he backhanded Micah and retreated. 

With a loud crack the whip was brought down, leaving a wide red welt. Micah stiffened, arching his back to cope with the pain. 

“Bill. Take out his gag, I wanna hear him scream,” Susan snarled. 

“Ya read my mind!” Bill came forward again, this time brandishing his knife. “The things I’m gonna do to ya. Never liked you.” He cut the gag, leaving a small cut on the side of his cheek. His face was marred with bruises and cuts from the beating he’d already received. Micah spat the gag out, breath coming in short, laboured huffs. 

Snap. This time, he screamed. A long red cut opened on his chest. Dutch raised a hand at Susan and walked forward, smiling wide. He leaned and growled in Micah’s ear, “how’s it feel the know the only way you’d ever get my cock hard is to be brutally beaten?” 

Micah turned his head and spat through gritted teeth, “Fuck you!” 

Bill laughed, “think that’s exactly what you want!” 

“Let’s find out!” Dutch grabbed his pants and yanked them down to his ankles. Sure enough, Micah was growing hard, head turned away from Dutch in shame. 

Susan looked shocked and amused. “Wouldn’t have believed it if it weren’t there and pathetic right in front of me.” 

At this point John decided to step forward for his turn in the beating. Dutch watched as the wiry man landed a few solid punches to Micah’s face, grabbed him by the hair and slammed his knee into his stomach. John spit in his face, “That’s from Abigail.” With that he turned and stalked away to stand beside Arthur. Dutch noted this for further consideration and turned to Bill, who had been standing with Javier. 

“Bill, I have a special job for you. Unfortunately for this feller, he knows too much to be left alive, but you know how I like to send a message, don’t you?” 

Bill nodded eagerly, “So, what you need me to do, boss?” 

“Brand my name into his chest. He wants to be mine? And so he shall be.” Bill squealed with excitement as he set off to heat the fire poker, rather sounding like a boar. Dutch smiled in amusement at the man’s enthusiasm for other’s pain, it was rather like his own. 

“No, no, no please! Dutch-!” His pleas were cut off by the back of Dutch’s hand, leaving imprints of his rings. He was starting to grow aroused at the man’s physical and emotional pain. The begging was all part of that. 

“Quiet now, son. There’s nothing more you can do or say for yourself.” Dutch’s voice softened. 

“Save your breath for screamin’” Arthur chuckled, having been silent this whole time. 

“Would you be a dear, Arthur, and fetch a cigar and somethin’ for us to drink from my tent? Things are about to get, interestin’..” he winked at Arthur as he nodded and walked off in the opposite direction. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to whip this sack of shit.” Susan motioned Dutch out of the way, he chuckled and moved, eying her raised arm. 

Damn that woman is something else. He loved it though. Grimshaw was an undeniable asset to his family. 

Micah screamed again, another gash opening up on his chest, this time in the other direction. 

“That’s enough with that, Susan. There needs to be enough room for Bill to do his thing.” 

Javier had been quiet the entire time, “Want me to turn him around?” 

“No. There’s something he gets to watch Arthur do for me first.” Javier looked at him, eyes glinting with a level of curiosity that Dutch hadn’t expected. “You’re welcome to watch, Javier.” 

Susan cackled, “Well now, won’t this be interesting.” 

“I thought I was to ‘turn on the gramophone next time’” a cheeky smile lighting his face as Arthur passed him his cigar. 

She jabbed a finger at him, “that was different and you know it, Dutch.” 

“How so, Susan?’ His eyes gleamed. Long ago they had been lovers, and he knew she missed it. She had said that for the sake of her image and he wanted her to admit it. 

Eyes narrowed, she looked at him. “Im not gonna stroke your ego any further.” 

Laughing, he grabbed his chair from earlier and turned it sideways and looked at Arthur with an unreadable spark in his eyes. 

“Got some spectators I see..” Arthur seemed nervous. 

“That bother you, son? It’s all part of the plan.” He narrowed his eyes at Arthur, hoping he would get the hint and wouldn’t have to be told to. 

“S’long as you’re sure, boss.” 

With that, Dutch looked at Micah. “Ready for a show?” 

The man was trembling, his cock hard. 

Dutch backhanded him. “I asked you a question.” The words were drawn out and spoken between gritted teeth. 

“Y-yes sir.” Micah seemingly couldn’t take his eyes off Dutch’s hands, which had undone his jeans. 

“You’re a foul excuse for a human being,” he scoffed. Turning to Arthur he kissed him deeply. Arthur pulled down his pants and underwear and pushed him down into the chair. Dutch chuckled and took a puff off his cigar. Blowing it at Micah, he looked at Arthur, who had dropped to his knees. The large man looked to be enjoying himself, despite his earlier hesitation. Dutch sighed as he felt fingers gently wrap around his hard length. 

“Looks like you’re lovin’ this, Dutch.” He could feel Arthur’s hot breath against himself. 

“You are so right.” Dutch took the bottle Arthur offered him. Uncorking it with his teeth, he took a large swill, relishing the burn as it travelled down his throat. He had a funny idea, taking another drink he turned his head and spat it at Micah. 

“Gah!! Fuck that stings!” Micah cringed and writhed against his bindings. 

“That was the point, Micah.” Dutch laughed. He watched as the man’s eyes opened and snapped immediately to his lap as Arthur opened his mouth and licked a long stripe up his cock. 

“Mmm, that’s it, son. Take it.” Dutch grunted as Arthur took the head in his mouth. He bucked his hips upward and buried himself down Arthur’s throat, forcing him to gag. Too slow. At this moment, Susan brought the whip down on Micah’s legs, he screamed again. 

Dutch laughed breathlessly as Arthur started to move quicker, swirling his tongue in just the right way. 

He gripped the man’s hair and started to bring his head down faster, thrusting up to meet him each time. Again, Susan brought the whip down. This time, the chord grazed the skin of his cock. A bloodcurdling screech echoed across the plain. 

At this moment Bill shouted, “Iron’ll be ready soon!”

“Ahh, thanks Bill.” Dutch’s words came out in quick huffs. He noticed how intently both John and Javier were watching Arthur pleasure him. How interesting. Another thing he would have to think on later. 

Arthur’s hand came up and started massaging Dutch’s balls, making him grunt in approval. He puffed his cigar again and blew the smoke straight in the air. Looking at his bottle, he swallowed what was left. 

“God damnit, Arthur.” The pleasure was building quickly, and he knew that he was starting to get close. He threw the bottle at Micah and vaguely heard him swear. Dutch turned his head, and saw that he had turned away, hair covering his face. “Ready to be humiliated, son?” 

He turned back to Arthur and gently pushed him off. Dutch stood and took over with his own hand. “Someone hold his head up. I’ve got a point to make, and I want to see that he understands it fully.” 

To his own surprise, Javier stepped forward. Grabbing the man violently by the hair, he forced Micah to look Dutch in the eye. Arthur’s hands were on his hips, and he leaned into him. Breathing hard he looked at the sad sight at his feet. Bloody, half naked and hard as a rock, Dutch could tell Micah felt ashamed for enjoying this. 

Arthur squeezed his ass as he felt his orgasm hit hard. Dutch cried out as cum shot out and covered Micah’s face. He shut his eyes and tried to turn away but Javier wouldn’t let him. Dutch locked eyes with Micah and all but growled at him, “Disgusting,” as the last wave of cum hit his chest. 

John passed him a cloth, silent with slightly flushed cheeks. “What’s the matter, John? Looks like the cat got your tongue.” 

The young man shook his head. “Jus’ surprised is all.” 

Dutch grinned an evil smile as he wiped his hands and redressed. “Oh look, here comes Bill.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micah’s punishment continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite graphic

The white hot iron steamed and hissed as Bill approached. He looked at Dutch, “You’re gonna want to put a gag in his mouth or he’ll be bitin’ off his tongue. Though it’d be fittin’, I’d say.” 

“As funny as it might be, I doubt he would be able to tell us exactly what he told the Pinkerton’s.” Dutch slowly approached Micah, “And if you cooperate, maybe, just maybe, I’ll consider dropping you on the steps of their damn office alive.” 

Dutch took the cloth that John had handed him moments earlier and forced it into Micah’s mouth. Another cloth was tossed at him, which he used to fasten the gag in place. 

Kneeling beside Micah, he held one shoulder in place. “Arthur? Would you kindly help keep our friend here still?” 

“Be glad to.” Arthur assumed the same position on Micah’s other side. 

“Shit, I forgot my salt.” Bill went to turn, “ I’ll be right back, need some goddamn salt.” With that he strode off, putting the poker back in the fire. 

Micah whimpered, “Salt?! Oh God, please no. That’s just-“ 

“Cruel? Evil? Like leadin’ people who loved you like family to damn trap?” John’s voice was raspy and sharp with anger. “What if they stormed the camp and hurt Jack?” 

Micah tried to hang his head, but with Dutch and Arthur holding his shoulders against the tree he wasn’t able. Dutch push his shoulder into the tree as hard as he could, “Well?” 

There was no response as Bill gathered up the fire poker and returned, waving it through the air. “Ok I got another one sittin’ over there, and it needs tendin’. Someone wanna do that?” 

“Yeah I got it,” Javier reluctantly agreed. Bill tossed the salt at John. 

“Think you can handle that Marston? If he ain’t screamin’ to your liking, put that on the wounds he got there.” 

“Yeah I figure I can handle that, thanks Bill. Seem pretty used to this kinda thing.” John looked equally impressed that Bill could retain information and disgusted at the content. The entire exchange was rather interesting, Dutch thought. He was also impressed, personally. 

“Peggin’ Indians with a rifle weren’t the only thing they taught me in the army.” He moved forward, speaking directly to Micah. “I ain’t gonna lie, this is gonna hurt. ‘’Specially such a long, criss crossy name like his.” 

Bill allowed the iron to hover under Micah’s collarbone for a few seconds then pressed it to his skin. The rancid smell of burnt flesh and muffled screaming filled the air around them. Dutch held the man as tight as he could, feeling his body convulse in agony. Slowly dragging it down and around to shape the first letter, Dutch watched as the skin bubbled and warped away from the white hot metal. 

“If you want him conscious through this you’re gonna need to take breaks or give him some whiskey, Dutch.” Bill had formed “Du” in cursive so far, and he wanted it finished and covered before Jack returned. 

“Whiskey. I want it done.” 

Javier brought a bottle over and Dutch removed the gag. Pouring it into Micah’s mouth, the man choked and sputtered. Dutch took the bottle and took a swig himself. He offered it to Micah, who opened his mouth like a baby bird. Carefully, Dutch poured him enough that he wouldn’t choke and waste more. As soon as he swallowed Arthur placed and retied his gag. Bill returned with the second heated poker and tossed the used one at Javier. 

“Heat that one again for me, will ya?” Bill wasted no time getting back to his business, getting the “tc” finished, met with more muffled screaming. 

John stepped forward, hand cupping some salt. He used the other to sprinkle it on the man, wrenching shrieks from behind the gag. Laughter echoed through the small gathering. 

Javier handed Bill the reheated poker when Dutch rose, hand extended. Bill immediately passed off the instrument and took his leaders place holding Micah against the tree. 

Lining the iron up to finish Bill’s handiwork, Dutch allowed a smile to creep slowly across his face. The terror in Micah’s eyes was unbelievably satisfying. He pressed the metal against skin, harshly finishing the final letter. By the time he had, tears were flowing freely down Micah’s face. 

Tossing the instrument aside, Dutch took in the sorry sight. Beaten, whipped, humiliated and branded. He smirked, no wonder their enemies feared them so, they were savages and that’s how he liked it. 

Dutch picked up the discarded bottle of whiskey and looked sideways at Micah. “Sleep well,” Dutch’s voice dropped as he upended the whiskey on Micah’s chest, laughing as the man immediately blacked out.


	9. Chapter 9

Dutch swung himself into the saddle, the familiar creak of leather and smell of horses filled his senses. He had asked John to ride with him into town to fetch the others, with a quiet thanks from Arthur. He’d winked and told him to help himself to the liquor in his tent. 

John was quiet, as usual when he was alone with Dutch. “How are you, John? 

He hesitated, “I, err, I’m not too sure what to make of this yet. All seems surreal somehow.” 

Dutch nodded, “And what’s that, specifically?” 

Looking away, John’s voice sounded small. “Micah hadn’t been with us long, he worked hard and always went on about loyalty. Just seems...insane. Not sure he deserves this, though.”

Dutch felt himself bristle, “I told you what happened, John. After the things he said about Arthur..and you...then to try to kill me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention?” He shook his head sadly. “You know the value I place on loyalty, I thought he was a fine man, son. I was very, very wrong.” 

John was shocked. “Wow Dutch, never thought I’d see the day where you admitted you were wrong to me. Wait, what did that fool say about me?!” His voice rose an octave. 

Chucking at the progression of John’s train of thought, “Do you really want me to tell you?” 

Eyes wide as dinner plates, John all but shouted at him, “Yeah that’s why I asked!” 

Dutch halted the Count, they were nearly on the outskirts of town. He looked at John and sighed. “Micah happened upon Arthur and I in a rather compromising position. As I said, he freaked, got pulled off his horse, hogtied and knocked out after foolishly trying to jump me. When he woke he continued his insults, ultimately asking if you, and forgive me, I’m simply using his words, were also my “butt boy”, then wondered if I might be the pillow biter.” 

John’s face went red as the kerchief in Dutch’s vest pocket and he spurred his horse toward Blackwater. “Son of a bitch.” 

Now that was interesting. Dutch caught up with him quickly and cut him off, dirt spraying as the Count slid like a barrel racer. He ceremoniously dipped his head to peer under the brim of John’s hat. “Look like you got somethin’ to say.” 

John looked down, teeth clenched, “Let’s say I wouldn’t want to be the pillow biter.” 

Too shocked to reply, Dutch allowed him to pass. They continued in silence while Dutch wondered what he had actually meant. He had always noticed John’s eyes for Arthur, whether Arthur was too oblivious or not. Micah’s words has specifically mentioned John being his...if that meant what he thought it did... 

“Dutch! John! Here!” Hosea’s shout from outside the saloon. “We were just wonderin’ when we’d get the all clear.” 

“All ready to head back, old girl?” Dutch beamed at Hosea. 

Eyes narrowed, Hosea said seriously, “Kinda wondering what I’ll find left of that man.” 

“Oh you’ll like it Hosea. I won’t tell you about the damage we did to his mind, but the physical damage even you’ll approve of.” Dutch grinned, knowing his old friend would get a kick out of the irony. “John, do you mind driving the wagon back and lending your horse to Hosea? We have a few things to talk about.” 

After the wagon headed off Dutch looked at Hosea, “Let’s go the scenic route.” 

“What’s up, Dutch?” 

Dutch repeated Micah’s words and John’s response. Hosea laughed. “You ever heard the phrase, “don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to?’ I’m not sure John has any idea what’s going on in his head and this whole thing with you and Arthur clearly isn’t helping at the moment.” 

Watching Arthur pleasure him probably screwed him right over too, but he wasn’t about to offer up that information. 

Dutch shook his head, “This sure is somethin’ else Hosea. It’s a good thing I’m not a man to be tied down.” 

“I’d hate to see what would happen if someone tried. The last time you had rope around your wrists you chewed through them with your teeth and strangled the guy with your bare hands. On second thought, are you sure you don’t need that rabies shot, Dutch?” 

“And for once you’re not exaggerating your stories, Mr. Matthews.” Dutch winked at him and laughed, “race you back? 

“Sure! Just like old times huh?” He kicked Old Boy into a gallop and the Count followed without being asked, quickly overtaking the heavy horse. 

Feeling the exhilaration, he spurred his steed on, putting distance between them. Dutch and the Count thundered by Bill on watch and slid into camp. Dutch laughed and dismounted, giving the horse a hearty pat. The sprint hadn’t even winded him. Hosea came galloping up the path smiling. 

“That horse you got is a regular bullet. Now, why don’t you show me this physical damage I’m gonna approve of.” 

“He’s jealous of Arthur, so I had Bill brand my name into his chest.” Dutch’s eyes twinkled. 

Shaking his head, Hosea approached Micah and looked down the shirt that had been roughly put on him while he was passed out. The man didn’t move, just looked at the ground in shame. 

“I think it’d be better punishment if you left him alive at the FBI office. Having to live with that constant reminder.” Shaking his head sadly, he looked at Dutch, “We’d have to move though.” 

“We aren’t doing that unless that’s what has to happen.” Dutch shook his head and made his way to his tent. 

“I loved you, Dutch.” Molly’s voice was bitter and intoxicated. 

“Miss O’Shea you need to lay down, right now.” Karen intercepted her and towed her off towards her tent. 

Dutch stared after her, as appreciative as he was, he was owned by no woman, and he had made sure to tell her that. She had said she understood. He shook his head and continued to his tent, needing to rest after such a long day. He had some things to consider. Dutch always fancied himself as the patriarch of this dysfunctional family, he wondered if that’s why John had said what he did. Damn, he had been so very oblivious for so long. 

That was going to change.


	10. Chapter 10

Dutch settled in his tent with his book and a cigar. The usual evening banter echoing around him. He found himself re-reading the same page but also quietly eavesdropping on the snipits of conversation around him. 

Susan and Karen were quietly discussing Molly by the sounds of it. “She had to know. We all know what he’s like. Can you get through to her?” 

A heavy sigh, “I’m not sure. I don’t think that girl is willing to admit she’s gonna have to do some work. No more pedestal for her.” 

He snorted and trained his ear on another conversation, Lenny and Hosea. They were discussing some book Hosea had passed his way. 

Dutch dismissed this as Bill walked into his tent. “Boss, I got a lead on a poker game down in Tumbleweed, lots of rich, dumb fellers all in the same place at the same time!” 

He blinked, considering this. “Where’d you hear about this?” 

“Some fellers were talkin’ about it going into a shop in Blackwater, Lenny told me about it.” Bill admitted.

“Okay, well, take young Lenny and go scope it out. Take your time and do it right, got that? No. Rushing.” Dutch poked him in the chest to accentuate his point. 

“Alright, alright.” He strode off to find his partner for the job. 

“Well Marston, how ya doin’?” Dutch snapped to attention. This could very well be interesting. 

“I’ll be alright after five or six more beers. How about you? Seem in good spirits.” John mumbled. 

A short laugh. “Yeah well. Not exactly somethin’ I’m used to sharin’ so you’ll forgive me if I don’t know what to say.” 

John laughed outright. “Think no one noticed, Arthur?” 

“Apparently people have noticed somethin’ similar about you, Marston.” He fired right back. 

“What? No, no. Dutch told me what Micah said and we all know that ain’t true.” John stammered, backtracking quickly. Dutch hadn’t said a word to Arthur about his conversation with John, but he had told him what Hosea had said. 

Arthur chuckled, “Not exactly what I was referrin’ to. We all know he’s a prized idiot. I saw you watchin’ me with Dutch. Seemed quite interested, to say the least.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it Arthur.” John’s voice was getting very tense. 

Dutch gripped his book so hard he was afraid he would break it, listening hard. 

“Oh, come on, John.” Arthur prodded slyly. “Not like you don’t know my deepest secret now. Let’s hear, call it even.” 

“I don’t really know myself. Seeing the camp react to you two makes me feel like some of the things in my head ain’t so crazy. But then I let my mind go and I just- I can’t- what I want just ain’t right. I’m leavin’ it there, Arthur.” John walked off and mounted his horse. With a loud “Let’s get!” he was gone. 

Dutch dropped his book and went to find Arthur. He looked shellshocked. “Well now, that was somethin’.” 

“I really don’ know what to say. Boy is strange.” Arthur shook his head, “What do you think he means?” 

“I have an idea but I’m not too sure. Have to wait and see I suppose. He’s never been so good at keepin’ how he feels inside.” Dutch pondered the meaning of the boys’ conversation earlier. He still wasn’t sure what to make of it. Dutch made a snap decision. “I think I’m gonna go after him.” 

“Good luck. I’m goin’ to bed.” Arthur paused looking at him curiously. Dutch leaned in and gave him a tender kiss on the lips and turned to go. Arthur lifted a hand and headed to his tent. 

He mounted the Count and spurred him in the direction John had headed, hoping if he moved fast enough he’d find him quickly . 

After riding hard for five minutes Dutch saw a dust trail and urged his mount to continue. He was gaining on John quickly. Drawing alongside him, Dutch drew on his rein, signalling for his horse to continue at the other animal’s pace. They continued like that until both men and horses were breathing hard. John finally slowed. 

“I don’t know what to do, Dutch. There’s things I want that ain’t never gonna happen. I got a family and should be thinkin’ about that, not-“ his voice halted abruptly. 

Dutch sat back in his saddle, “Not what, son?” 

“Don’t - Arthur, you. Fuck.” John turned Old Boy and moved off in the opposite direction. 

“John! You can’t say somethin’ like that and walk off. Whatever do you mean? None of us are related by blood, and if it’s because it’s not the, ah, conventional relationship, does that seem to matter to those who love you?” Dutch caught up with him and they moved forward at a walk. 

“Abigail would kill me. Not that she lets me touch her anyway. Can almost hear the “bad example” speech.” John sounded bitter. 

“I found your response to what Micah had to say very interesting.” 

“‘Course you did.” John scoffed, “What can I say, I have a problem with authority. That’s why you found me on the street in deep shit.” 

Dutch chuckled. He halted the Count, finally realizing what John was getting at. The boy refused to look at him. “We can’t fight our nature, John.” With that his eyes rose to Dutch’s. “Myself included. Now, I’m not sure how easy you think you could get what you want, but you know I’d fight you for it.” 

John’s eyes widened. “Don’t look so surprised, I know you wouldn’t enjoy it if I didn’t. I’ll leave you to your thinkin’.” With that, Dutch wheeled his horse and took off toward camp smiling into the wind.


	11. Chapter 11

Dutch returned to camp in the dead of night. Karen lifted a hand in greeting, which he returned. Dismounting, he strode to his tent to lay down, he was tired as hell. Sure enough, Arthur was going to wonder how it turned out with John. Sleep took him swiftly. 

-

Some six hours later, he rose to the early morning sunshine. Dutch rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up. To his surprise, a cigar and a still steaming cup of coffee sat just inside the flap of his tent. Arthur, he thought as he stretched. 

Hopping off his cot, Dutch dressed quickly. All the bits and pieces took a few moments to arrange, especially with his large fingers, though the result was worth it. He tied back the tent flaps then bent to pick up his coffee as well as his cigar. 

“Mornin’ Dutch.” John strode by and winked at him. Refusing to turn his head to look over at John while he was bent over, Dutch laughed. “Hello, John.” 

As he straightened up, he took in the camp. There was Micah, probably half starved by now, a red stain colouring the front of his shirt. Others were just starting to rise, Boadicea was gone as well. He wondered where Arthur had gotten to so early. Dutch finally let his eyes rest on John, who was taking the opportunity to chop some wood, shirtless. Of course. 

Hosea had appeared at his side, also watching the spectacle. “He’s maturing into a fine man.” 

“That he is,” Dutch said frankly. 

“Watch yourself, Dutch. Their sibling rivalry is bad enough without them vying for that kind of attention from you also.” Hosea’s tone said he was very serious. Dutch puffed his cigar and looked at him. 

“I think it’d make them behave. Put them both in their place.” Dutch narrowed his eyes as John looked over at him. So, his little John thought he could best him, and seemed to be willing to take the consequences if he wasn’t able to. 

Hosea shook his head and walked away, “Better be careful with that. Arthur is going to be gone from camp a day or two, think about what he would say.” 

Dutch snapped out of his revere, “Hosea you know better than that. I do as I please and everyone here knows it except for Miss O’Shea. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some beating to do.” He dismissed Hosea and turned on his heel. 

Swiftly, he advanced on Micah and ripped the gag out. “What did you tell them, or so help me God, I will brand the REST of my name into your body.” Dutch snarled the words. 

Micah sounded broken, “They wanted me to lead you to a trap. A ferry job in Blackwater. It was nearly the perfect set up. I was to go to them in a few days time and tell them where the camp was so they could intercept you if you somehow escaped. They also figured you wouldn’t go far if most of your family was still here awaiting execution.” 

Dutch rocked back on his heels, “Well, well, well. Smarter than they seem, those government boys. Too bad for you though. You failed, and now you’re at the mercy of whatever I decide to do with what’s left of you. Don’t worry though son, you won’t miss your meeting.” The cryptic words let Micah know there was a countdown, and his fate wouldn’t be one he would enjoy. 

Dutch put the gag back in place and returned to his tent, closing the flaps. He needed to think. There was no way they could leave the damn fool alive, he knew too much. Dutch was dead serious when he said Micah would make the meeting, or his corpse would. Without its tongue. Dutch wrinkled his nose in anger. They would learn what happened when they decided to try to play games with Dutch van der Linde. 

John entered the tent unannounced. He was not necessarily in the mood to be tested, and John sure was good at doing so. Dutch moved like a flash of lightning, standing, gripping John’s hair, and bringing him to his knees in one swift movement. “What do you think you’re doing, you know what a closed tent flap means, boy. I’ve got half a mind to punish you.” 

John looked genuinely shocked, “I’m sorry, Dutch. I just thought-“ 

Dutch smiled down at his boy and spoke directly into his ear, “I know exactly what you thought, now you better go think on it some more.” 

He let go of John’s hair and grabbed his chin, allowing this touch to be more gentle. Slowly, Dutch ran his thumb over his lips, never breaking eye contact. “Run along now, boy.” 

John rose slowly, “I must say, I never know what to expect from you,” he remarked as he left the tent. 

Smiling, he returned to his spot on the cot. Picking up his favoured pipe, he smoked some of his good tobacco. This was working out quite nicely, despite what Hosea might think. He thought about Arthur, he would definitely speak to him about this development, though Dutch doubted there would be an issue. 

Allowing himself time to get lost within his own mind, he was slightly curious what would happen if he allowed John what he desired. Eyes narrowing, he highly doubted that in the heat of the moment that’s what would happen. Dutch recalled how easily he submitted to him earlier. At this point, Hosea had told him not to, which was likely why he would. He chuckled, this time, he old man had unknowingly set Dutch’s course of action. He simply couldn’t be told what to do. 

Dutch pondered more on what it would be like to relinquish control. He had always known how to handle almost any person or situation, a dominant nature and confidence had always allowed this. Maybe one day John could have that privilege, but he’d be damned if he’d allow it any time soon. It definitely wouldn’t happen the first time. 

Still lost in thought, Dutch exited the tent. Pipe in hand, he sat and watched the daily activity. His eyes eventually travelled to John, who was chatting with Hosea. Dutch remembered the flush he felt as John’s knees had hit the floor earlier, he had wanted to continue. 

John’s eyes met his from across the camp. He inhaled on his pipe and cracked his neck. Making eye contact again he slowly exhaled through his nose. Dutch watched as Hosea walked away and John made his way toward him. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly unsure. “Hey, uh, wanna go huntin’ or something?” 

“Sure, John.”


	12. Chapter 12

“So, what are we after?” Dutch looked at John as they headed out. 

“Hear there’s this big nasty white cat just north of Strawberry. Half a days ride. Figure we can catch it by nightfall.” 

“Or it’ll catch us. That’s when they start their hunt.” Dutch chuckled. “Never seen no white cat before. You see it?” 

“Yeah, watched it nearly maul a guy to death a few weeks ago. There’s a bounty on it an’ I’m sure a trapper will pay a good chunk for it.” John shrugged. “Thing is meaner than an angry muskrat.” 

Dutch considered this. “Hmm, from what I know, once they start hunting humans, there becomes an issue. We’ll be doing a public service.” 

John scoffed. “Every once in a while we do somethin’ good.” 

Laughing, Dutch spurred the Count on, “Lets get moving. If we wanna make it before dusk we’re gonna have to hustle.” 

They crossed the Upper Montana river and headed for Strawberry. The country was nice out here, Dutch always liked to spend a day or two out this way. A lot more wolves and cougars out this way though, one had to pay attention to their horse’s cues.

They approached Strawberry well before dusk, having set a quick pace and taking a few short cuts through the hills. “Wanna hit the saloon?” 

“Maybe just one or two, we need our heads right if we don’t want be cat food.” Dutch smiled, nice try John. 

“Alright,” he headed in the doors and leaned on the bar, closely followed by Dutch. Raising a hand he said, “Two whiskies.” 

Dutch tossed a few coins on the bar and said, “Have one yourself, friend, looks like a busy night.” 

The young man’s eyes lit up, “Thanks Mister!” With that he continued along the bar to serve the gaggle of drunkards gathered at the other end. Dutch slammed his drink back in one gulp and leaned toward John. 

“See those fools? They’re government boys. We need to leave out the back, now.” John finished his drink immediately and they slipped out the back unnoticed. Quickly, they put some distance between them and whistled for their horses. 

Dutch laughed long and loud. “Never a dull moment, is it? Stop for an innocent drink and run into Pinkertons!” 

“Just never know, I guess. That was close.” John shook his head. “Den’s this way.” 

“I reckon we place some bait outside the den, maybe a deer carcass, and wait for her to come out.” Dutch had pondered this on the way here. 

“Probably the best way to do it, we haven’t got the slightest idea if she got cubs or how big that den is.” John looked ahead and pointed, “There’s the opening there, and there’s usually deer around the other side of that rock.” 

Dutch pulled his bow from his saddle, “Alright, I’ll get the deer, you keep watch on that there opening. Whistle for me twice if you see it come out.” 

John nodded and hitched Old Boy a fair distance away and out of sight. Dutch urged the Count on slowly, eyes searching for any sort of movement. There. Two whitetails. Doe and a buck. The doe looked pregnant. He took a deep breath and drew back on his arrow. The buck lowered its head to eat, Dutch exhaled and let the arrow fly, smiling as it buried into the animal’s neck, killing it instantly. The doe was off like a shot and he moved to collect his kill. Two short sharp whistles prevented him from dismounting. He stopped. There was no way he was going to be on foot when he didn’t know where that damn cat was. 

He turned his horse and noted the position of his ears. Tail swishing he pranced in circles, ears in John’s direction. Dutch urged him forward again and his mount snorted his protest. “Come on, boy.” 

He heard the growl at the same time the Count sidestepped. Dutch drew one of his poisoned arrows and scoured the brush. Sure enough, he saw the flash of gold eyes and white fur. Taking his breath and quickly exhaling, he fired off the arrow at the same time the Count reared up on his hind legs. Dutch heard the animal scream and hit the ground as he slammed his chest against his horse’s neck, forcing him back to earth. 

“John! John! I got her!” Quickly dismounting he hurried over to the animal, excited to finally see this white cat. 

The sound of breaking brush hit his ears as John came to inspect the kill as well. “Wow, she’s sure somethin’.” 

Dutch was in awe, “Never seen anythin’ like it. Make a fine coat. I’ll take her, you go fetch that deer, then we’ll hit the trapper on our way to camp.” 

The meeting at the trapper went quick, he needed more items to finish a coat with that pelt, but Dutch wouldn’t worry about it now, it was far from winter. 

“Not sure about you but I’d like to make camp. Been a long day and there’s a liquor bottle in my saddlebags callin’ my name.” Dutch chucked and dismounted. As they set up their tents John kept looking over at him when he though he wouldn’t notice. He inwardly smiled. Did John have a plan here? Dutch didn’t doubt it, but so did he. 

As he cleared a spot for a fire pit and arranged the wood, Dutch felt eyes on him, looking up, he asked, “Yes, John?” 

Rubbing the back of his neck John scrambled for something to say. “Nothin’ its just been a long time since we been out like this.” 

“That it has.” He dropped a match on the fire and fetched the bottle from his horse. Dutch offered it to John who took a big swig. Coughing as he handed the bottle back, Dutch laughed. “Put a little hair on your chest, son.” 

John laughed and pulled the buck off Old Boy. “Nice kill.” 

Dutch lit a cigar, “Always.” 

Together they skinned and cut the meat off the carcass. By the time they were finished there was blood all over their forearms and hands. 

“Think there’s a creek over here where we can clean up a bit.” John pointed north just a ways. 

Shortly after, the two men were sitting side by side cooking some fresh deer meet. “Why didn’t you take Charles with you?” Dutch slid his eyes to John. 

He stared intently at what he was doing, “Didn’t want Charles to come with me.” 

“I see. He is the better hunter though.” Dutch offered. 

Laughing out loud, John shook his head. “Shoulda seen yourself, snuck up on and killed a deer, mounted at that, cougar comes up behind you and you kill it one shot mid rear and don’t get thrown.”

Dutch shrugged and inspected his piece of meat. Looked to be cooked through. Taking a bite he savoured the flavour. It was quite good, even without spices. He offered John some more of his liquor. 

“Tryna get me drunk?” He took the bottle and downed half of what was left. Dutch stood and finished the rest, tossing the bottle into the woods. He fetched another and opened it, taking a sip as he gazed into the fire. 

“And if I were?” He looked at John, who reached out for the new bottle once realization hit his eyes. 

“If you were, I think I’m gonna need more than jus’ this bottle, Dutch.” As he passed the drink off, he winked at John. He didn’t have too much more alcohol on him, but he had enough. Dutch wasn’t going to let John get drunk enough that he wouldn’t remember the events that were about to transpire. 

He set the bottle down on his bedroll and turned to John. Dutch let a sly smile slowly spread across his face and nodded at what was left in the bottle. “Finish it,” he ordered.


	13. Chapter 13

John downed the rest of the bottle and went to stand. Dutch grabbed him by the throat, holding him down and grinned evilly at him. “So John, you mean to tell me your fantasy is to take me. What if I took you?” He leaned in real close, “Made you feel real good? How would you feel about my authority then?” 

John eyes bore deeply into his own, Dutch felt the movement of his Adam’s apple underneath his hand. He continued, “Did you like watching Arthur pleasure me, son? Now, you don’t have to answer that, ‘cause I know the answer.” Dutch flicked his belt buckle open. “Now be a good boy, and show me what you can do.” 

He released John’s neck and combed his fingers through his hair. Dutch watched as he John brought his hands up to undo his pants. “Come on, now. No need to be shy.” Giving his head a little shake, he pulled them down for John. 

His cock sprung to attention right in front of John’s face. Grabbing it, he looked up, “I, uh, not real sure how to do this.” 

Dutch thought for a second, “What feels good for you?” Taking Dutch in his mouth, he pleasured him slowly at first, making sure to pay attention to his balls also. John’s movements became quicker and more fervent. 

“Damn, John. That’s real good.” Dutch closed his eyes and let himself enjoy John’s mouth. He drank more from his bottle, corked it, and dropped it on the bedroll. Dutch pushed him back with a glint in his eye. “Turn over.” 

John did as he was told and looked back at Dutch, who kneeled behind him and took in the view. One hand stroking himself, he exposed John’s bare ass. Dutch brought his hand down hard, leaving a light pink mark on his tanned skin. He watched as his body tensed. Dutch reached forward and pulled him up so his chest pressed against John’s back. His other hand reached forward and found his hard cock. 

“Ahh fuck. Dutch, I - I want you to.. mark me as yours.” 

Dutch wasted no time, using John’s mop as leverage to expose the right part of his neck. Biting down hard, Dutch continued to slowly stroke John. Tasting copper, he pushed the young man down. He spat in his hand and played with himself. 

“What are you waitin’ for?” John’s tone was breathless. Making eye contact with him, Dutch let another drop of spit fall, this time it fell in the crack of his ass. He used the tip of his cock to work some inside of his boy when John pushed back against him. 

Dutch growled, hand snaking forward to grab him by the throat and brought him back to his chest. He let his voice drop to a barely audible whisper, “That was going to be for your benefit, not mine, son,” and Dutch entered him roughly. 

“Shit!” John’s word barely escaped. Dutch’s other hand was like a vice on his hip. 

“Ahh, that’s is, nice and tight,” he started to fuck John, drawing muted gasps from him. Dutch let go of his throat and pushed him face first into the bedroll beneath them. 

“D-Dutch.. please...M’already gettin’ close. Fuck!” Smiling at his young lover, he rutted into him hard. 

“I wanna hear you scream, John. All your doubt.. all your goddamn sass..” Dutch huffed at him, “Want you to do as your told, for once.” 

John moaned, “Please, I need your hand, Dutch.” 

“Because you asked so nicely..” he reached underneath John and found his already pulsing cock. 

“Oh God that’s so good,” John whined and closed his eyes, pushing back into Dutch as he rode him from behind. 

He whispered, “Not God, my son, just good ol’ Dutch.” He felt John’s cock stiffen and bit down on him hard, thrusting from behind as well. Carrying John through his orgasm he continued to pound into him even after he was finished. “My turn, boy.” 

He took no mercy, not being nearly as gentle as he had been with Arthur. Growling he slammed into John as hard as he could, pulling a scream from his chest. Oh that sound, Dutch was getting close now. 

Dutch pulled out and grabbed John by the hair. Settling him on his knees, Dutch pushed his cock down his throat and fucked his face. John gagged and sputtered around his cock, making some oh, so delicious noises. “You better swallow every fucking drop, John.” 

Their eyes connected and Dutch groaned. Pressure building, he forced his cock in as far as he could possibly manage. Watching John gag, eyes watering, he went over the edge and shot his load straight down the boy’s throat 

“Ohh that’s it, John. You’re such a good boy.” He pulled out, a line of spit and cum from John’s lips to his dick. He wiped John’s chin as he smiled up at him. 

Dutch pulled up his pants and grabbed a cigar from his horse. Laying down he puffed it, extremely satisfied. 

John’s voice came low and quiet in the early morning darkness. “Thanks, Dutch.” 

Dutch smiled. “You’re welcome.” Well, wasn’t this just something?

-

They rode back to camp the following day, Hosea standing with his arms crossed in front of Dutch’s tent. He took one look at the pair of them and shook his head. 

“Hosea looks happy.” John remarked. 

“He’s just wary of the consequences, is all.” Dutch dismounted and approached his old friend, hands splayed wide, “Alright, where’s my lecture?” 

Hosea shook his head, “I’m just gonna let you deal with what happens. Arthur won’t be happy.” 

Shaking his head, Dutch looked at him, “And he will have to learn.” 

Dismissing him with a wave, Dutch entered his tent to find Molly. 

“You’re a foul man, Dutch van der Linde.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Excuse me, Miss O’Shea?” Dutch was getting sick of this. “You’re walking a very fine line here. I have always made it clear that this was not an exclusive relationship, nor a serious one.” 

“I thought you loved me,” she sobbed. 

“Now don’t you go putting words in my mouth. I love every member of my family. You knew what you were getting into. I think it may be best if we have another tent set up for you. Susan! Miss O’Shea needs a tent set up. Maybe you can sit with her a while.” Dutch said dismissively as he ushered her into Susan’s capable hands. She would handle Molly just fine. 

Settling down with a book, Dutch relaxed. He’d had more pleasure in the last few days than months with that woman. Molly was beautiful, but dull. The novelty had worn off quite quickly. 

The sound of hooves caused him to look up, Arthur was approaching from whatever adventure that had needed his attention. Dutch watched as he made his way to the lock box. 

“Good work, Arthur!” Dutch smiled at him and motioned him into his tent. He needed to speak with Arthur before he saw John. 

“Sure, Dutch. What’s up?” Arthur was a little surprised when he closed the flaps for a false sense of privacy. 

Dutch turned and faced him, “Well, I’m afraid I might’ve done something you’re not gonna like. Now, I wanted to speak to you before now, but didn’t realize you were leavin’ before dawn yesterday.” 

Arthur’s brows knitted together. “Okay, jus’ spit it out. What’d you do?” 

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Dutch continued, “First, you know we aren’t exclusive, right? We had a discussion, of sorts, about Miss O’Shea not understanding that. She know has her own tent again. Arthur, I don’t want you to feel inadequate, or that I prefer someone over you.” 

“You fucked John, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes, I did.” Dutch searched Arthur’s eyes. 

“I can’t say I’m happy, Dutch. I’ve had you once and whatever the hell you wanna call that with Micah. Gone one day and you’re off With Marston?” Arthur shook his head and shrugged off Dutch’s hand. 

He wasn’t about to let Arthur walk away from this. “Now, son. You know what I’m like, boy was being a damn tease.” This got a laugh. He still waited, sometimes Arthur was hard to read. 

“Well, I’ll live, but you better be on your best behaviour for a while.” A suspicious twinkle arose in his eye as he continued, “Maybe I’ll have to think of a way to punish you.” 

The words surprised him. Most of all, because of how excited he got by them. Dutch closed the distance between them and took his hand. He placed a gentle kiss on the back of it and looked at Arthur sincerely. “I am sorry.” 

“Not sure I believe you, but I’ll take it. I’m gonna think of something good too. Maybe I’ll ask Marston for some ideas.” Dutch watched as he left the tent, not knowing what was in store for him. 

“Dutch?” Hosea. 

“Come on in.” He was still standing there, surprise apparent on his face. 

“You got yourself into this one. Those boys are gonna have their way with you.” 

Dutch shook his head, “Didn’t I tell you I don’t like when you eavesdrop?” Shaking his head he smiled, “At least everyone will be happy.” 

“Will you?” Hosea wondered.

He lifted a palm, trying not to let his face betray him. “We’ll find out, I guess.” 

“The mighty Dutch, I would have never known.” Hosea’s smile was from ear to ear. “Even I might enjoy that show.”


	15. Chapter 15

The time had come to decide how to deliver Micah to his puppeteers. Hosea had arranged for a coffin-like parcel box to be brought and dropped off at the FBI building in Blackwater. The box was lined with hay, hopefully to absorb some smell over the course of the night. Dutch wanted it to be opened by who it was addressed to. 

After some careful examination he had made out two names on the card: Ross and Milton.

Dutch hollered for Bill, “It’s time.” 

“Yes, boss.” 

They had made sure Abigail and Jack were set up in a room in town. None of them wanted Jack exposed to this part of their job whenever possible. 

“Alright boys! Gather ‘round!” Dutch stood and waved everyone over. “Hold his head, time to cut out his tongue. John? Arthur?” 

His boys held Micah so he couldn’t move. “Bill, open his mouth.” 

“You might as well just cooperate, Micah.” He cut and removed the gag.” Bill jammed his finger in the corner of his jaw, preventing any protest. “Arthur, use one of them sausages to do the same on the other side,” to which he obliged. 

Dutch pulled his knife, turned to his family and made eye contact with Molly. “Let this stand as an example to all of you,” scanning all the faces, he continued. “I will not tolerate disloyalty.” 

Spinning on his heel, he closed the space between him and Micah. Reaching into his mouth, Dutch pinched his tongue and held a straight face as he brought the knife up. “I’m going to enjoy this. The best part, I will be leaving your stinking corpse for your boss to find.” Dutch let out a primal growl as he severed Micah’s tongue. Blood poured out of his mouth and down his chest. Arthur and John let him go. 

Dutch snatched his hair and slit his throat, ending it right then and there. Breathing hard he looked at Bill. “Take off his shirt and put this in that envelope sitting on the table addressed to Agent Ross and Agent Milton Nail it to the outside of the box. Move!” 

Micah was settled in the box and it was loaded up on the wagon. Hosea drove off with a nod in Dutch’s direction, he would be back shortly, after passing off the wagon to a trusted Mexican delivery man, paid enough to say he picked it up in Mexico and was paid to bring it out to Blackwater. That is, if he got caught or traced after the fact. 

Spirits in camp were high. Everyone was relieved that the rat was gone. Dutch settled with a cigar to wait for Hosea. 

He watched as Arthur and John stood talking by the fire. Something Arthur had said made John nod and laugh before looking in Dutch’s direction. Oh boy. 

Deciding he was hungry, he made for the pot of stew. He helped himself and nodded a thanks at Pearson. Dutch made his way over to the fire and had a seat. “Hello, boys.” 

“So I hear while I was gone he told ya about some long shot plan of leadin’ ya to a trap?” Arthur drawled. 

“Sure is something. Couldn’t imagine the casualties if he had been successful.” Dutch shook his head. “Makes me wonder what they were paying him.” 

“What a goddamn snake. I can’t believe we never saw through his shit.” John violently tossed his cigarette into the fire, reminding Dutch of his cigar. 

At that moment Hosea wandered over, looking at the three of them expectantly. “Hand off went without a hitch.” 

“Excellent! By tomorrow morning Micah should make the front page of the papers.” Dutch inhaled on his cigar and let lose a large cloud of heavy smoke. He stood and took his stew bowl to drop in the wash bin. 

On his way back to his tent he noticed Hosea standing with Arthur and John, their heads leaned in together. Well, then. If Hosea was helping with his “punishment” it was definitely bound to make him regret his actions, the old man would make damn sure of that. 

Dutch laid down on his cot and drifted off to sleep. 

-

Some time before dawn hushed voices woke him. At first he thought he was dreaming, but sure enough, he could make out Hosea and Arthur. He rose, half dressed, when Arthur made his way inside his tent. 

“Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, Dutch.” His eyes were unreadable in the dark. “I suggest you comply.” 

Dutch lifted his chin. “I will take my punishment willingly,” and then stepped out into the cool night air of his own accord.


	16. Chapter 16

Hosea and John were waiting for him outside. As he approached the two men looked at him, Arthur suddenly grabbed his hair and one wrist, forcing him to his knees. 

Grunting in surprise, Dutch looked up at them. 

Arthur spoke first, “He said he’d take his punishment willingly but I’m not sure he’s being honest.” 

Hosea chuckled. “I think he might be, but I’d make sure you’ve got him exactly how you want him. John?” 

The young man looked down at Dutch and smiled. Arthur removed off his unbuttoned dress shirt as John pulled a rope from his belt and bound Dutch’s hands together in front of him. 

Arthur spoke quietly, “Now you better do as your told. I wanna watch you suck him off. Gonna be a slut, then we’ll have you be a slut for everyone t’see.” 

Moving in front of Dutch, John dropped his pants and held the base of his cock. Not trusting himself not to make a snide remark, he took it in his mouth and watched as John closed his eyes. This was something absolutely different than he was used to. He was aroused and wanted to throttle them both at the same time. 

He felt John grip his head and started to pull Dutch onto him faster. “Shit, this is what I was lookin’ for.” 

Dutch groaned around John’s long slender cock and continued, gagging when it hit the back of his throat. 

“That’s it, Marston. Get him droolin’ real good.” Arthur had pulled out his own dick. He lit a cigarette and continued to watch as John pleasured himself with his boss’ mouth. 

Hosea announced his presence by speaking up, “I think he likes that, boys. Should see what else he might like.” 

“How’s it feel to be at someone else’s mercy?” John put both hands on the back of his head, moving in and out of his mount in long strokes. “You be good and I’ll be more gentle with you than you were with me.” 

The sun was beginning to rise and Dutch knew that the rest of camp would be awakening soon. Clearly, this was meant to be a public affair. He wondered if that was Hosea’s idea, and how unsuspecting the camp was. Dutch didn’t doubt that it was, or that Hosea had spoken to the camp after he had fallen asleep. John pulled out of his mouth and looked at him. 

Motioning at him, Arthur said, “Stand up. Hosea, take those off an’ let’s have a good look at what we’ve got here.” Dutch found it quite interesting how easily Arthur had assumed a dominant role. He’d figured John would have, out of the two. 

Suddenly, he was jerked forward by his wrists. Shit, hadn’t moved quick enough. Dutch stood, and Hosea took his pants and left him with his boots, though he had a hard time accomplishing this. Before walking away he paused and looked Dutch head to toe. The man had seen him change his clothes in the past but this was different. 

Looking him dead in the eye he asked, “Yes, Mister Matthews?” 

“You’re a fine specimen, Dutch van der Linde. I’m going to enjoy this just as much as you are, I think.” He reached forward and pinched one of his nipples hard. “The fun we could have had over the years... Maybe if you’re a good boy, you can suck my cock too.” 

The words sent a chill up Dutch’s spine. Here he was, on display. Soon enough, everyone was about witness whatever this was going to turn into. Arthur watched the whole interaction with intensity, chuckling at Dutch’s reaction to what Hosea had said. 

He was led to the table and told to bend over it, nearly knocking the wind out of him when Arthur pushed him down. Here we go, Dutch thought. 

There was some shuffling and the sound of a bottle opening. A cool liquid touched his ass, eating a surprised yelp. Hosea laughed, “If a little bit of oil makes you sing, just wait til Arthur takes that tight ass.” He set his hand on Dutch’s cheek softly, “I like to hear you sing, Dutch.” 

While he was distracted by Hosea’s words, Arthur slipped an oily finger into his asshole. “Shit!”  
He gripped the opposite edge of the table and gritted his teeth. Dutch pressed his head to the table and breathed deeply as Arthur pushed more of his large finger inside. He moved it in and out slowly, causing the older man to moan, “Fuckkk...” 

“That’s right, you really do like this, don’t you? Not so big an’ tough now.” Arthur slid another finger inside. 

“Oh God damnit!” Dutch slammed his fists on the table and squirmed, earning himself a hard smack on the ass and the fingers were removed. 

A grunt came from behind him. Dutch turned to see Arthur lining himself up with his hole. He took a shaky breath and Arthur pushed inside him slowly. He could feel his ass stretch to accommodate Arthur’s girth. “Sweet Jesus.” 

His voice echoed in the early morning light, grunting at the new, but not unwelcome feeling. Arthur tangled his fist in Dutch’s black curls, forcing him to look up at John, who was now standing in front of him, lazily stroking his dick. 

“Ain’t that just a sight?” John caressed his cheek. 

“I’m sure.. this is better.. than what you.. figured.. you’d get.. John.” Dutch managed to get out, making eye contact with him. 

“You talk too goddamn much.” John’s cock was promptly shoved into his mouth, and he was being taken by both of them. Dutch’s pleasure sensors were in overdrive. 

This drew laughter from around him. He ignored it. If he were to remain with any dignity he would need to show he was a more than willing participant here. Even then, he doubted Susan would ever let him live this down. 

He saw stars and a wave of pleasure washed over him as Arthur hit some soft spot inside him. Dutch cried out, pushing back against the man who was taking him this way for the first time. John pulled out and spoke huskily, “My turn. I’ve wanted this for the longest time, Dutch. I want to hear you screamin’ my name.” 

Arthur assumed the position that John had been a moment before. He noticed that even Hosea had his hand in his pants. John wasted no time, holding Dutch in the same position that he had held him the day before, chest to his back, whispering in his ear, “All your talk about loyalty and faith, means nothin’ here an’ now. 

Feeling a hand on his aching cock for the first time made him moan long and loud, “Oh yeah.. “ Eyes closed he let his head fall back on John’s shoulder. 

Suddenly, he was pushed face first into the table, head turned so he could see the gathered crowd. John gripped his hips and started thrusting into him more desperately. Arthur leaned low and hissed in his ear, “Bill’s jerkin’ off to the sight of you.” 

Against his better judgement, he laughed. A hard smack to his ass made him cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. 

Hosea’s voice reached his ears, breathy but confident, “Do that some more John.” Pulling himself out he advanced on Dutch. He was shocked at the size of the man. John’s hand came down on his ass again. 

“Fuck!” He dragged out the word as if it had three syllables. Another smack. Hosea looked him in the eye and Dutch knew what was coming. He slipped his cock inside Dutch’s mouth just as orgasm hit him, finishing with a large load and a quiet, “Oh yes, my Dutch.” 

Arthur took his place and face fucked him hard, not giving him much time to recover. John was still mercilessly thrusting into him from behind, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot that had made his knees weak earlier. Dutch could hear Bill thoroughly enjoying himself at the sidelines but couldn’t see him. 

“Alright Dutch, I’m gettin’ close. You ready to swallow my load too?” John’s voice met his ears at the same time he smacked him extremely hard. 

“Fuck! Yes.. I’m ready..” Dutch was starting to get close himself. He was yanked off the table and to his knees by his hair. Both of his boys stood in front of him now, both close and ready to have Dutch finish them. 

“Yeah, c’mon’ fuck his face, John!” Bill sounded like he was about to finish himself. Brave of him to try to give direction, but it seemed John was all too happy to oblige. 

“I’m gonna blow my load right down your throat. Raised me like a father an’ here I am usin’ your mouth.” John’s voice was a growl, but Dutch knew it was heard by everyone. 

It was full daylight by now and they had quite a few spectators. Dutch didn’t care, this wasn’t about to change how he ran his family. This was a side of him that was separate to that. 

His eyes began to water as John picked up speed. Sucking and twisting, Dutch did his best to not gag, but when John thrust his whole cock in, he gagged. “Oh yeah that’s it, choke on my cock, Dutch.” He came hard as he spoke his name, Dutch inwardly smiled. John was loving this. 

“Arthur, can I-?” 

“No, Bill.” 

“Shit.” 

Arthur smiled down at him, “You’ve taken your punishment quite well. I expected more sass from you.” 

Dutch watched his eyes as he moved forward and took him in his mouth. At the same time Hosea re-announced his presence by taking hold of Dutch, stroking his cock and purring in his ear about how many times he’d wanted this. The words hit his ego just right, building his pleasure quickly. 

“You really are a slut, ain’t you?” Arthur pumped in and out of his mouth, grabbing Dutch’s hair to keep him right where he wanted him. He felt the telltale buzz of his orgasm not far off and started thrusting up into Hosea’s hand. Arthur’s cock stiffened and started to twitch and his mouth was filled once more. 

He swallowed, panting hard as Hosea brought him closer and closer. Dutch made eye contact with him, “Oh fuck, please, Hosea...” 

Looking up at Arthur, Hosea asked, “Well Arthur? What do you think? Does he deserve it?” 

Nodding, Arthur spoke, “Yes, he’s taken his punishment like a man.” 

He was shocked silent as Hosea bent down and took him in his mouth. Dutch could barely remember his surroundings anymore. After all that had gone on, he was lost in the physical sensation. Hosea couldn’t nearly take all of him in his mouth, but his efforts sent Dutch over the edge. Thrusting up as Hosea’s lips came down he finished, making him choke. Dutch growled and moaned as he emptied every last drop into Hosea’s mouth.


	17. Chapter 17

Dutch rested. He bloody well needed it. By the time he finally awoke, Abigail and Jack had returned. He needed to eat. Rolling over he groaned. “Ouch.” 

Not sure if he wanted to sit up he reached for his pipe. He could use some other herbs at the moment. Thinking about the events of this morning, he knew he was about to face some relentless teasing. 

Absently, Dutch wondered if those agents had found his gift yet. They had a lot of nerve trying to infiltrate his family. He couldn’t help but smile. He’d written a personal little note just for them. 

“This man was my family.  
You have no such clemency  
The hunter shall become the hunted.

Dutch van der Linde”

He laughed out loud at this. Dutch didn’t expect them to heed his warning, but their bosses would think twice once the agents wound up dead also. 

Government agents only had one mind frame, he thought, they hired an outlaw to kill an outlaw. Soon they would come to the conclusion that if you wanted something done right, that you need to do it yourself. This thought roused him. He needed to eat and recover from this morning. 

Dressing himself to the nines as usual, Dutch sucked back half a bottle of whiskey and exited his tent. 

Heads turned from every direction. He made his way to pick up some stew and sat himself at the poker table. Dutch smirked at his stew. Maybe he’d kick their asses at poker tonight.

“How ya feelin’ boss?” Of course, it was Bill. Dutch dropped his spoon in the bowl below him with a small splat and stood. He was taller and had much more muscle mass than Bill. Dutch stood directly in front of him, the younger man was clearly uncomfortable. 

“I feel great, thank you Bill. How do you feel? Left out?” He narrowed his eyes and he bared his teeth a little as he spoke, animosity dripping from his voice. 

“Hey now, there ain’t no reason for that.” Bill backed up and held his hands in the air. 

Dutch advanced on him, “Never forget who relentlessly fights for all of you, and keeps this family going. You might have held the branding iron, Bill, but keep in mind who’s idea it was to brand him and that it was my name branded into his chest.” 

Nodding, Bill’s voice was rather small. “Yes sir.” Dutch sat back down and continued eating his stew. He located Arthur standing with young Lenny. “How’d you make out with Lenny?” 

“Kid did good. Between the two of us we sat an’ played and took ‘em for almost $300!” Bill exclaimed, getting real excited about the score. 

“Very good! Keep up the good work, son.” He smiled and turned back to the rest of his meal. 

“There he is.” Arthur dropped himself on a seat across from him, “Hosea picked this up in town today.” 

A newspaper got thrown at him. Mouth still full he picked it up and flipped it open with one hand. A graphic photograph of Micah was on the front page with the headline: 

“NOTORIOUS OUTLAW KILLS GOVERNMENT AGENT” 

Dutch let out a low whistle and laughed. The article contained his description, which in and of itself made him chuckle. “Charismatic, silver tongued gunslinger.” It went on to detail his many crimes: murders, train and bank robberies, and continued on to offer a reward for information leading to his whereabouts. It was believed he was somewhere in New Austin. Dutch noticed a quote from Agent Milton, who apparently opened the box himself. 

“This man is brazen, but that will be his undoing. This type of violence is sick and has no place in our world anymore. Dutch’s days of tyranny over this state will come to an end.”

 

“Well ain’t that just the finest thing. Man sounds like a damn politician.” Dropping the newspaper, he winked at Arthur and sat back. “How are you?” 

“Little nervous about Pinkerton’s stormin’ the camp, but that ain’t new. Hell, I dunno. This mornin’ was...” he tailed off, clearly unsure what to say. 

“Eventful? Shocking? Satisfying?” Dutch quirked an eyebrow, hoping for a positive response. 

Laughter burst from Arthur, “All of it. Don’t think I got the nerve to do that again though. Felt weird.” Dutch was not surprised. 

“Well Arthur, I am sorry for not speaking to you first as I should have. I acted too quickly.” He stood and walked around the table. Placing his hand on Arthur’s shoulder he said, “Just to be clear, I won’t let you feel unwanted, but yes, I am quite promiscuous.” 

“I know that, it’s just, I dunno, it bein’ Marston and so soon, maybe.” Dutch nodded, not convinced that was it. He searched Arthur’s eyes for an answer. “Don’t you look at me like that, van der Linde.” 

He held his hands up playfully, “Now I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Arthur Morgan. Unless you’re leavin’ something out..?” Arthur blushed. 

“Leave it, Dutch.” 

“Something about John, isn’t it? And you’re not angry, you’re blushing.” Dutch stated, frankly. 

“Alright!” Arthur slapped the table. “I’m jealous. You told me he had eyes for me an’ you go fuck him while I’m gone.” 

Everything clicked. “You wanted John first.” Arthur stood and walked away from him. He had a habit of doing that once things got too close. 

Following him as he had before, “Arthur! Stop, now. Regardless of anything, it’s been years that we have been riding together. We both surely had chances and didn’t take them. Taking that out on me ain’t fair. Also, I am the leader of this family and if I want him first, I will have him first. This has always been my nature, Arthur, and I can’t fight it.” 

The two men stood for a few moments when Hosea put his two cents in without looking up, “He wouldn’t be so alluring to you, either.”

A heavy sigh came from Arthur’s chest. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” 

Hosea continued, “Besides Arthur, if you read between the lines, Dutch just gave you permission to take John into the bush and fuck his brains out.” 

Laughter bust from all three of them at that. Dutch shrugged and made his way to the gramophone. As long as he remained vigilant about the impending issue with Milton and Ross, things would turn out just fine


	18. Chapter 18

“Anyone for poker?” Arthur’s voice rang across the camp. 

“I’ll join! Hang on a second.” Dutch called from his tent. He quickly set up the gramophone and made his way to the poker table. Pearson, Strauss and Arthur had already sat, waiting for him to do the same. 

Grunting at he settled onto the uncomfortable crate he smiled at the other players. It had been a while since Dutch had played with them. Between him and Strauss, the table would be cleared quite quickly. 

“Well! Glad to see you joining us, Dutch.” Strauss looked at him over his glasses. “Very interesting times, as of late, no?” 

Dutch chuckled, “Very interesting, Herr Strauss. How is my favourite loan shark?” 

“Doing very well, thank you Dutch.” Strauss shuffled the cards. “Let’s see if we can play a clean game, huh?” 

Laughter came from everyone at the table, “S’long as you do, Strauss.” 

“Mister Morgan, just because I cannot be read as easily as you, does not mean I cheat!” Strauss feigned indignation. Dutch chuckled at his thinly veiled attempt. 

Cards were dealt. Ten of hearts and a nine of clubs. Dutch tapped them against the table and hummed as he called the blind. Not a great hand, but not a bad one either. All the other players called or checked. The flop revealed a two of clubs, an ace of spades, and a king of diamonds. Calculating his odds, they weren’t fabulous. He checked, Arthur checked. Strauss took him time and made a small bet, which he called. Arthur folded, “Nah, my hand’s shit.” 

The turn produced a jack, Dutch doubled Strauss’s previous bet. Making eye contact with him, he waited. The other man slapped his cards onto the deck with a decisive “No.” 

With a smirk on his face Dutch pulled the small pot toward him. They played a few more hands with nobody winning more than half a dollar per hand. Finally the cards were handed to him to shuffle. Dutch made quick work of it, dealing himself the worst hand in poker history: seven of spades and a two of diamonds. Not that the suit mattered, unless they matched. He could count cards just fine, but he never got the hang of stacking the deck like Strauss had. 

Dutch folded immediately and watched the hand play out. Strauss took the remainder of Arthur’s chips with a queen high diamond flush. 

“Well, shit.” Arthur remained at the table and watched as Dutch managed to win three hands in a row, significantly diminishing Strauss’ chips and knocking Pearson out of the game. 

“Just you and I now, Herr Strauss.” His eyes gleamed with firelight. Purple and orange clouds streaked the sky, night was quickly approaching. 

“I think I will turn in, no sense losing my last few cents” Strauss chuckled and left the table

“Between the two of ya, you could hustle a high stakes poker game.” Arthur looked at him as he collected his winnings. 

“That’s not a bad idea, Arthur.” 

“Aw, Dutch don’t look so surprised. Every once I a while I come up with somethin’ good. M’sure if we do some lookin’ we can find somethin’ in Blackwater. Hafta be careful though.” His words slurred together. Dutch noticed the few empty beer bottles beside the table. 

“You doin’ alright, son?” Worry furrowed his brow as he regarded Arthur. He didn’t say a word, but cupped his cheek gently. Dutch leaned into the touch, stepping close. 

An Irish lilt interrupted the moment. “Get a room.” 

“Miss O’Shea, you watch your mouth. He ain’t puttin’ up with those comments for long so you go and cool off.” Susan’s voice snapped from somewhere out of sight. Molly scoffed and made her way to her new tent, looking over her shoulder at the two men. 

Dutch hadn’t broken eye contact with Arthur’s deep blue eyes. “I think that’s a mighty fine suggestion, don’t you?” Taking Arthur’s hand, he led him to his tent, ignoring all the eyes that were on the both of them. 

He took his time setting up His gramophone and fastening the tent flaps. He could feel Arthur’s eyes on him as he lit a cigar, studying him. Dutch enjoyed it, slowly turning to face him. 

“Sit.” Dutch said sternly as he slowly undid his vest. Dropping it to the floor, he continued with his dress shirt. Pausing when he finished, Dutch held his cigar between his teeth and inhaled. Casting his eyes down, he undid the cuffs of his sleeve also. The smoke escaped the corner of his mouth and he flashed his eyes up to Arthur’s. He watched as he licked his lips and rubbed at the crotch of his pants absentmindedly. Dutch rolled his shoulders and let his shirt hit the floor. Taking his cigar in his right hand, he used his other hand to unclasp his belt. Dutch kicked off his boots when Arthur reached forward and moaned, “C’mere, Dutch.” 

“Ah, ah, ah, Arthur. Patience.” Dutch’s tone was sensual and low. He pushed Arthur back onto his cot. He dropped his pants to his ankles, stepping out of them, shortly followed by his underwear. After a deep inhale, Dutch tilted his head toward the sky, pushing the smoke out slowly and watching as the little tendrils curled and floated away. He wrapped his fingers around him dick and started to stroke it. 

“Like what you see, Morgan?” As he spoke his name Arthur pulled his cock out. 

“Damn right, old man,” came the husky reply. His eyes raked over Dutch’s bare chest and down to the dark curls underneath his belly button. He puffed on his cigar to steady himself. Just watching Arthur watch him was delicious. Dutch stood in front of him in nothing but his hat, rings glittering in the low light. 

“Undress for me, son.” Dutch all but purred the words. Arthur hopped up, and tore off his clothes. Dutch dropped his hat on Arthur’s head and kissed him passionately. He turned him around and pushed him down. 

Snatching the oil he had stored on his table, he coated his fingers and rubbed against Arthur’s entrance gently. A low rumble came from his chest so he slipped his finger inside. This drew a grunt from him also. He brought his hand down hard on his ass cheek. Arthur yelped. Smirking, he slowly moved it in deeply.

Dutch added another finger and ran his fingers up and down his spine. He watched as Arthur balled his sheets in his fist. He removed his fingers and slowly pressed the tip of his cock inside. Arthur all but howled. Dutch was thrilled at the way he looked bent over in front of him. He grunted and gripped Arthur’s left hip and his right shoulder. This time, Dutch wanted it to last, to get every ounce of pleasure from his son.

He couldn’t hear anything over the gramophone, save for Arthur’s satisfying mewls. Dutch started to increase the pace of his thrusts, his nails digging into Arthur’s skin. 

Arthur let his forehead fall and hit the sheets. “God Dutch, so damn deep.” 

With a hard slap, Arthur cried, louder this time. Dutch chuckled and slapped him again. He loved how submissive Arthur was,. It made his passion intensify to know his strongest, most lethal son wanted nothing more than to ride his dick as hard as possible. 

“That’s it, son. So tight, so needy. You want me to fulfil your needs, huh?” Dutch’s breathing was getting heavy, a sheen of perspiration covering his skin. Arthur’s voice came thick and gritty with pleasure. 

“Oh fuck don’ stop.” Dutch thrust inside as hard as possible, he saw Arthur reach to touch himself. 

“Not yet,” came the command as he slowed. Arthur looked back and Dutch could barely contain himself. He leaned over Arthur and nipped his shoulder in several places. This new angle put different pressure on both of them. 

“Please, Dutch. I’m startin’ to get close.” His voice sounded desperate. 

“Cum for me, Arthur.” Dutch whispered into his ear. He sunk his teeth into Arthur’s neck and rutted into him as fast as possible. 

“Fuck!” Arthur pushed back against his hips and he knew his son was emptying his seed onto his fresh sheets. 

“That’s my boy,” nipping again in several different places. Dutch found a spot on his neck that hadn’t been decorated with red and purple bruises, and latched on. Arthur was still moaning beneath him, making his orgasm approach fast. 

“Damn, Dutch.. I love the way that feels..” He didn’t respond to Arthur’s words, just continued his efforts. He whined and groaned as he filled his ass right to the brim. Dutch felt his cum drip down his own legs and signed with relief. This was what he needed


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took took so long guys! Been a crazy couple weeks, enjoy! 😘

It had been a few weeks of hard work trying to find their next big score. Some land had become available but Dutch hadn’t felt rght about it, though. The bumbling idiot that was selling it had made it out to be a lot more than it was. He needed fertile land, not just grazing pasture.

 

Staring up at the sky he considered their current plan. Hosea had worked on the high stakes poker game and found one in Saint Denis. It was the civilization they stood against. Dutch wrinkled his nose, they would be there by noon today. They had chosen to camp before they made it to the meeting place with their coach, there was an image to uphold. Strauss and Trelawney were playing the part of rival businessmen at the table, throwing less suspicion on them for rigging the game. Dutch had sent them to Saint Denis a day ago.

 

Thoughts of Arthur crept into the centre of his focus. The last few weeks had been something else. Not afraid to hide his smile in the early morning darkness, he thought of the excitement they’d had. Since that nasty business with Micah their who family seemed happier, too. Well except for Molly. Dutch furrowed his brow, for such a fine woman she was incredibly unstable. She had completely fallen into the bottle, and he was sure they’d find her dead one morning because of it. Breathing a deep sigh, he turned onto his side. He had failed Molly and didn’t see how he could have done any different.

 

Sunlight was starting to lighten the sky so he decided to smoke his pipe before getting up to dress. Arthur had brought him some high-end tobacco and he had saved it for this occasion. These types of men would be able to smell cheap tobacco a mile away. Hosea stirred at the sound of the match, but thankfully didn’t wake. The old guy needed more sleep than he did.

 

“Dutch..?” Hosea’s sleepy voice nearly made him drop his pipe. “Did I wake you?” Dutch looked up from pawing around in his satchel to see Hosea propped up on one arm. When their eyes met Dutch noticed the hunger in his eyes even in the fading darkness, reminding him of Hosea’s words weeks earlier:

 

_“All the fun we could have had over the years...”_

 

“No, I was awake already.” Dutch abandoned the search for his tobacco.

 

“Come here.” Dutch commanded, flipping his blanket off and revealing his usual morning hard-on. “I need some assistance...”

 

Without missing a beat Hosea made his way over and knelt beside him. Dutch hooked an arm behind his head and watched intently.

 

The man’s hands were shaking as he reached for Dutch’s pants. Arcing his back to allow Hosea to pull them down, he smiled. He had seen the older man watching him since the events of a month ago and knew their first trip out would indeed prove to be interesting.

 

As Hosea freed his erection, he groaned and took it in his hand. “You know, Dutch? There was a time I thought you’d have killed me for wanting this.”

 

“There was a time I might have.” Dutch huffed as Hosea slowly stroked him, “Though it clearly didn’t make a difference in the long run.”

 

A flash of white teeth, “No, I think it made it worse. From the day we met.” The confession came on a sigh, causing Dutch’s ego to inflate that much more.

 

“Well Mister Matthews. You fooled us all. The expert con man.” He couldn’t prevent a sly smile, eyes studying Hosea as he slowly and expertly played with his dick. “Damn, that feels fucking good, Hosea. Don’t stop.” Fingers drifted gently over his abdomen and up to his chest. More gently than Dutch thought possible, his buttons were flicked open one by one. Hosea’s light touch sent shivers through his entire body.

 

If he was truthful, he had wanted this before as well. _Hosea, my conscience. Hosea,_ _my brick wall._  He was always there to calm Dutch, keep him in check. To make sure his wild plans weren’t too wild in the end. Would he submit to his latest idea?  _There was only one way to find out._

 

Gently, Dutch ran his fingers up his arm, he felt the muscles tense and twitch under his touch. He would be gentle with Hosea, as he always was with him. Dutch sat up, and paused. He smirked and cupped Hosea’s cheeks with both of his hands, feeling the warmth underneath. He closed his eyes and brought their lips together, feeling Hosea shudder and melt against him.

 

It was like the opening of a faucet. A whimper came against his lips as fingers wove through his hair. Dutch fell back and pulled Hosea on top of him, momentarily breaking their kiss. The man’s weight against him caused more arousal to build within him and he ground his hips upward involuntarily. This pulled a soft moan from Hosea.

 

“Dutch...” He pulled off his undershirt, making sure not to toss it into the fire. Dutch admired the smooth lines of his muscles, running his ringed hand over them, feeling their strength. With the other he stroked Hosea’s cheek.

 

“You are something to behold, Hosea. So wise, like the profit you are named after, with a body still as fine as Michelangelo’s David.” Dutch let his eyes wander from Hosea’s, though he could let himself drown in the hazy blue grey pools of wisdom for hours, slowly across the handsome features of his face. Age hadn’t been cruel to Hosea, hadn’t ravaged him of his beauty.

 

“You know those eloquent words never worked on me,” but the man was nearly trembled at the affection, eyes roaming over Dutch, hungry, but clearly unsure. Hosea was beginning to get hard under his soft, and rather warm sleeping trousers. A smile creeped across his face in the darkness. Dutch tilted his head and lowered his gaze to Hosea’s neck. He liked to bite. Loved it. He ran his fingers down his neck and Hosea leaned forward, hand splayed flat on his chest. Dutch was slightly surprised at the swift movement, but continued drawing the tip of his fingers against the tracery of veins in Hosea’s neck.

 

In his position, it would be an easy thing to wrap his arms around Hosea and draw him to himself, biting down hard against the soft spot where his fingers lingered like some mythical vampire. Instead, he placed a kiss and a gentle nip there. This drove Hosea into somewhat of a frenzy. One of his hands sought out Dutch’s cock again and the other wrapped around the back of his head. A quiet grunt came from his throat as he pushed against Dutch’s nips and kisses. Dutch needed no more encouragement. Securing Hosea against him, he teased him by nipping him several times on the shoulder up to his ear lobe.

 

Smiling against the smooth skin there he asked Hosea, “You don’t want me to mark you up before we go and see all those fancy civilized buffoons, do you?”

 

A tug at his hair, “You’re insufferable.”

 

He had said exactly what Dutch had wanted him to. “Oh, but it’s worth it,” and bit. Hosea stiffened for a heartbeat, then gripped Dutch’s hair nearly hard enough to make his eyes water. He was stronger than he looked, and he looked strong. His voice rang out. Dutch sucked and applied even more pressure with his teeth. Before he caused too much pain he let go, this was Hosea, after all. Dutch let his hands drift to the waistband of his partner’s pants, tugging at it roughly. Hosea got the hint and rolled off him onto his back to remove them. Dutch watched as he completed this task and again marvelled at the size of Hosea’s cock. _Damn._

 

He reached over, “Mm, back where you were.” Again, Hosea’s weight settled onto him, but more gingerly this time. Dutch sat upright and brought his arms around him, holding tight. Hosea’s lips quirked in a smile as he reached for his pants, and pulled a small bottle of oil from the folds. A low chuckled escaped him.

 

Dutch kissed him. He could feel the longing and desire boiling within Hosea. Briefly, he considered whether he was blind or forced himself to be ignorant. The though was gone as Hosea’s thin, greased fingers took hold of him and caused him to take a sharp intake of breath. He allowed himself to be pushed back on the bedroll, thoroughly enjoying the attention he was receiving.

 

_Arthur was right. I am a slut._

 

Dutch had been a young man the last time he had had so many partners, and so frequently.

 

Hosea seemed to be reading his mind, as usual, and spoke softly, “You sure have been enjoying taking turns with our boys, haven’t you?”

 

“Just remember who it was who started all this, old girl.” He squeezed Hosea’s ass, getting a small yelp in the process.

 

“Seeing them both punish you was something else.” Barely a whisper. Dutch laughed at this.

 

“Seems like everyone has a liking to see me on my knees. Now, you’re going to get to see what else I’m capable of.” Pausing, he tugged slowly at Hosea’s rock hard cock, own throbbing under the other’s hand. Almost as if he was just realizing the gravity of the situation, Hosea’s eyes widened. He leaned forward and renewed his passionate kiss from earlier, the pressure of against him was delicious. Dutch placed his hands on Hosea’s narrow hips and guided him down. He stopped when the tip pressed gently and allowed Hosea to choose the pace. Dutch’s breath caught as Hosea’s lips pulled away from him. He watched as Hosea steadied his breathing and with one slow, fluid movement, sunk down onto Dutch.

 

Both of their voices rang out in the early morning stillness. A horse snorted and stamped its foot. Dutch was unprepared for the look of total satisfaction on Hosea’s face. He’d been holding himself back for many years. _Well, I plan to exceed his expectations._ He slowly moved his hips upward, paying close attention to the little whines and groans coming from Hosea as he started to move in and out of him.

 

Dutch bit his lip, struggling to maintain his composure. Hosea looked at him and gave him that sly smile. “I’m not going to break, you know.” Dutch wasn’t sure and growled a response. Hosea let himself drop fully onto Dutch, his cock sliding in all the way. He groaned and thrust his hips upward quickly a few times in succession, eating more whines from Hosea. _Theres a sound I would never tire of hearing._

 

The sky was beginning to turn an ashy, blue-grey colour. Dutch always enjoyed the colours in the sky in the early mornings, and it was the perfect backdrop to the lovely sight in front of him. Here was Hosea, come right undone, pleasuring himself on his cock. Dutch loved it. All of it. The attention and and pleasure made him feel alive again. A soft slapping sound came as Hosea picked up speed, breath coming in huffs. Dutch lifted his hips to meet him and moaned, “Hosea...”

 

He noticed Hosea was starting to tire, rolled him over onto his back and off of the bedroll. The grass was soft but not too long, the morning dew leaving it damp and cool against their hot skin. Dutch beheld the sight below him and leaned in to kiss Hosea.

 

“Just fuck me, Dutch.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

 

“Don’t make me beg.” Hosea clawed at him, trying to coax some sort of movement from him.

 

Dutch acquiesced slowly, “Another day, perhaps...” Hosea’s eyes closed as he arched his back and whispered his name. So stunning. Dutch stroked his cheekbone and picked up speed. Again, his name from Hosea’s lips, but louder this time. As he settled into a quick, grinding rhythm, Dutch planted kisses along Hosea’s jawline to his ear.

 

“Tell me what you want, Hosea,” he whispered.

 

“I want you to wrap your hand around my cock and whisper those devilish words of yours in my ear until I finish.” And there it was. A breathy confession that he would definitely tease Hosea about later. Never breaking rhythm, he obliged.

 

“Ever the romantic. The stoic one. My conscience. Beautiful as you lay underneath me.” He could feel Hosea tightening around him, feel him trembling as Dutch spoke, picking up the speed of his thrusts. “Ah, goddamn Hosea, you feel so fucking good. Where do you want me to finish? Your wish is my command...” 

 

“Inside,” came the decisive reply. Dutch growled his approval and grabbed Hosea tight enough to bruise. He began to slam his hips into him and he felt Hosea tighten around him. He was close himself and didn’t want to miss the opportunity to finish together. Dutch latched onto Hosea’s neck once more, maybe an inch or so below his right earlobe. A glittering hand cupped the other side of Hosea’s face gently. He felt Hosea’s seed hit his stomach at the same time he felt his ass contract around his dick. Hosea’s cry as he covered their stomachs sent Dutch right over the edge. He didn’t care how loud he was or if anyone was about, he all but yelled as he finished. Stars decorated the outside of his vision as he trembled all over with the intensity of the orgasm. Hosea looked up at him, grinning.

 

 “You’re quite the vision yourself, Dutch. I get why women refuse to let you go. And men, for that matter.” Dutch laughed and slowly pulled out of him. The action making them both moan and twitch again. He looked at the both of them in the early morning sunrise and chuckled.

 

“We need to go get cleaned up.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you guys think! Also I’m considering doing some one-shots, ideas/requests welcome!

The riverboat job went splendidly. The four of them made out like bandits with almost four thousand dollars, and no suspicion had been raised at all. Dutch was happy as a pig in shit.  _Things were starting to go according to plan._

 

When he and Hosea returned to camp celebrations had already started. His family was dancing and singing. Dutch dismounted and made a beeline for his tent, hoping to find Arthur. Before he made it, he noticed Arthur standings with Grimshaw and that there was undeniable tension in his shoulders. Dutch was beside them in seconds. “What’s going on?”

 

Scoffing, Arthur thrust a letter into his hands. “Mary.”

 

Dutch bristled. He had always harboured a bitterness towards the woman that had strung Arthur along. Perhaps some jealousy as well. He scanned the letter quickly and started to chuckle. Her idiot brother had gotten in with some Chelonians.

 

“You wanna do this?” Dutch met Arthur’s pained blue eyes.

 

“I feel I have to. Poor woman wasted years on me. Won’t hurt to do right by ‘em. He’s just a boy.” Dutch sighed. Rereading the letter he worried sending his son on his own.

 

“We ride out at dawn,” was all he said. Arthur blew air out of his cheeks and nodded. He clearly felt he owed this woman something he didn’t, but they couldn’t leave this boy in the hands of those fools. Dutch wondered how much of the Linton estate had been donated to their “cause”.

 

“Hosea? What do you know about Chelonians?” Dutch inquired, genuinely curious.

 

“They’re idiots. Cultist lifestyle, but aside from that I don’t know much more. It’s the type of society you know only so much about unless you’re a part of it.” Hosea’s voice was soft and noticeably tired. He looked at Dutch and touched his shoulder gently before heading toward his tent to rest, looking decidedly saddle sore.  _Oops.._

 

Dutch smiled and put his arm around Arthur. “Get some rest, this’ll be handled easy enough between the two of us.”

 

Arthur hesitated, “She ain’t gonna like seein’ you, Dutch. Not like she don’t know who you are. Damn near everyone has seen your wanted posters.”

 

“And yet, I can still hustle a poker game is Saint Denis with a selection of “esteemed businessmen” from the town without being noticed. You worry too much Arthur. Now, let’s get some rest.”

 

 

Dutch woke with an hour or so before dawn. He stared up at the roof of his tent and contemplated what the day may bring. He would finally get to meet this Mary that had stolen Arthur’s heart, and save her poor brother from cultists. Dutch wondered what they would be like. He had met few members of cults and when he had they were hostile. _And now dead._ He chuckled and wondered if he would have the chance to ask them some questions about their ideals. He dismissed this as quickly as it crossed his mind, however. Dutch doubted they were anything but brainwashed simpletons.

 

He rose and dressed quickly, Arthur had already made his way to the coffee pot and was approaching Dutch’s tent by the time he had opened the flaps.

 

“Good morning, Arthur,” he said as he took the cup of coffee offered him.

 

“Hey. Sleep alright?” Arthur sounded like he hadn’t.

 

“Not bad. Ready to head out soon?” Dutch tilted his head and waited. Arthur shook his head.

 

“ ‘Bout as ready as I’ll ever be I suppose.”

 

He dropped the mug in the wash bin and headed for the Count. His mount looked sleepy but more than willing to be off to work in the cool temperature of the morning. Dutch offered him a sugar cube, to which he bobbed his head in appreciation and looked for more.

 

It wouldn’t take them long to reach the mountainside where they would find Jamie, but they had hoped showing up in the early morning would guarantee that everyone was indeed at their camp. After mounting up, they rode in silence until Arthur blurted out:

 

“Damn this woman. How long’s it been and I still come when called,” his voice was bitter and Dutch longed to put his arms around him.

 

“She sounds desperate. Can’t blame her for reaching out when she knew you can and will help her. Doing right by them don’t mean you gotta let them back into your life, Arthur.” He kept his tone even, watching his companions reaction as he spoke. Arthur knee he was right, but clearly didn’t feel comfortable. Not that he blamed him. However uncomfortable he was, Dutch knew if he hadn’t decided to help, Arthur would have been eaten alive by the guilt had any ill fate befallen Jamie or the others of the Linton family.

 

They arrived at the Chelonian camp and Arthur tried to reason with Jamie and these maniacs. He stood and observed as Arthur tried to negotiate. Suddenly, Jamie made a break for it. Dutch leapt after him, hastily jumping onto his horse and clapping his heels to his sides with a loud “Hyahh!”

 

Arthur was behind him shortly so he cut Jamie off, causing both horses to slide and neigh in protest.

 

“I suggest you come with us to your sister, friend. She knows what you need.” Dutch’s voice was low, the one he used for easing an unsteady horse. Jamie pulled his pistol.

 

“I-I’ll shoot! Get away from me!” Jamie was in a full panic. His horse sensed his terror and started bucking. The boy hit the ground and his gun fired a shot, sending the horse galloping into the woods. Arthur was off his horse and slowly approaching him with his hands up.

 

“Now Jamie just put that down. What are you gonna do, shoot me? You ain’t no killer.” Arthur used the same voice Dutch had. Dutch’s boots hit dirt and he slowly approached, staying a few feet behind and to the left of Arthur.

 

“I don’t wanna live no more!” Jamie turned the gun to his temple and Dutch reacted without thinking, his trusty Schofield drawn and a bullet fired. Jamie  screamed and the gun fell from his hand. Arthur ran forward and scooped up the gun before Jamie could recover and do something else rash.

 

“You shot me!” The boy was shocked. He clutched his hand which was bleeding onto his gaudy white robes.

 

“Well You was just gonna shoot yourself so I figured there weren’t no harm. Trust me, son, you got a lot of life ahead of you. A lot of mistakes to learn from and a lot of successes to celebrate. Take this as a second chance.” Authority and conviction rang in Dutch’s voice, he hoped it would instill some level of the same for this lost soul.

 

Arthur put his arms around Jamie, “Now come on, let’s get you back to your sister.”

 

The ride to Valentine was fairly short, though Jamie spoke the entire way there. He asked Arthur whether or not he and Mary were getting back together more than once, to which Arthur replied both times that no, their time had passed. Dutch has been riding a horse-length behind and smiled fully into the wind.

 

_That’s exactly what I wanted to hear._

 

When they arrived a dark haired woman rushed out, continuously thanking Arthur and chiding Jamie for his foolishness gently. _This must be Mary._

 

She was beautiful, but Dutch didn’t like the condescending tone she took when she addressed Arthur. “Oh Arthur, thank you so much. I didn’t want to ask but I had no where else to turn.”

 

At this moment she seemed to notice him. “Who is that, Arthur?” With his hat low on his brow he swung down from his stallion and sauntered over to them.

 

He extended his hand. “Dutch van der Linde, Miss Linton, I presume?”

 

She hesitated and looked at Arthur. “So I finally get to meet him, then? I hope he and this life are worth what we could have had. We could have had peaceful lives. Children, Arthur!” She turned her sad eyes back to Dutch, “But you ruined that for him.” And with that she hurried back toward the house, leaving the men to digest what she had said.

 

Jamie had stood silent the entire time. “He stopped me from killin’ myself, Mary.” Mary stared deadpan at him then turned to Dutch, who stood patiently with hands on hips.

 

“I’m sorry, I - thank you.” She spoke in a small voice, not quite looking at him, but close enough.

 

He nodded and pointed at Jamie. “You look after your sister now, son. No more of that. You got family, and that’s the most important thing in this life.” He touched the brim of his hat and headed toward his horse. “Ma’am.”

 

Arthur followed. He had hardly said a word and didn’t break his silence as they left. Dutch wondered what he was thinking but decided to let him sort through his emotions before he asked how he was doing.

 

Most of their ride back to camp was quiet except for a little small talk here and there. As they approached camp he looked over at Arthur, “If you need to talk, just let me know, son. That was a hell of a day.”

 

Arthur smiled at him, “Thanks Dutch, I think I just need to sit for a while and have a few beers. Good sleep too.”

 

His brow furrowed, why were the flaps of his tent closed? He had left them open this morning for sure. “I don’t blame you at all, son. I do too.” Dutch planted a kiss on his cheek before heading to investigate.

 

He looked around, almost everyone was accounted for, he thought. Dutch moved inside to find none other than Molly O’Shea, naked on his cot.

 

“Oh hey, Dutch.”

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet. Basically some build up for the next chapter. Enjoy! 
> 
> Also, bye, Felicia!

Candles flickered from different surfaces across his tent. Dutch surveyed the work she had obviously put in for the occasion. This was unusual for her, and he was quite impressed. 

It was just rather unfortunate that he was far too tired for this. Dutch absolutely wanted to indulge himself with the woman. Turning her down wasn’t going to end well, either. 

“Molly...” Dutch sighed. It would be like her to choose a day like today, that had been so busy. 

“What, now you won’t even touch me? You’d rather have a fucking man over this?” She gestured at her curvaceous body. 

“Molly. I am dead tired and I want to, but I wouldn’t perform to your standards or my own. Let’s do this another night.” His voice was heavy with exhaustion, which she mistook for apathy. 

“It’s true then! Fuck you!” Her voice rose shrilly, raising the hairs on his neck. Dutch threw his hands in the air and left his tent. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, he’d rather sleep in the dirt than deal with her shit. 

“Dutch?” Hosea’s sleepy voice carried to him. He made his way over to him and sat down beside him. “You okay?” 

“Tired.” Dutch sighed deeply, putting his head in his hands. 

“Oh, Dutch. Come here.” Hosea opened his arms and beckoned him closer. Dutch leaned over and dropped himself onto Hosea’s chest, sighing deeply and closing his eyes. He could hear the steady beat of his heart and smiled when strong arms wrapped around him. Dutch cuddled into his shoulder and sighed again when Hosea pulled his blanket around him. 

The next thing he knew it was morning. Hosea hadn’t moved, still resting quietly under him, but with a book in his hand now. The camp was remarkably quiet, everyone speaking in hushed voices. As he began to stir, Hosea put the book down and smiled at him. 

“Morning sunshine.” Hosea’s tone was light as he stretched out a leg. Dutch groaned and looked up at him. 

Just then, Molly walked by and scoffed at them. “Had no issue being with him last night I see. Sack of shit.” 

He grunted and looked over at her. “I slept on the damn ground after a job because you don’t get the meaning of the word “exhausted”. Get a hold of yourself or get out.” Dutch wrenched himself off the ground, turned to face Molly and braced for what was going to come. She slapped him and marched to her tent and began packing. 

A pain in his back and shoulder stiffened him as he moved toward his tent. Dutch shook his head and took a deep breath as he looked around. Molly had put out the candles but left them in place, he would definitely be taking advantage of that for a little fun. Dutch smiled as he collected them and set them gently in a small chest under his cot reserved for his favourite cigars and whiskey. Hosea’s voice caught his attention as he pushed it back under the bed with the toe of his boot. 

“Check this out, Dutch.” His tone dripping with humour. 

John and Arthur were standing together, talking quietly with eyes cast down. Dutch heard Arthur laugh and they moved toward their horses. 

“They’re going on a job together. Take a couple days but could easily net us a thousand or so.” He nodded. They had been doing well. Soon enough they’d have more than enough money to buy good land. Dutch chuckled as John swatted Arthur on the backside before swinging into his saddle. Even from here he could see the blush on Arthur’s face as he looked to Dutch. He gave his son a smile and a shooing motion. 

“Have fun, boys,” he called out after them, going back to sit on his cot. Today would be a quiet one. 

-

It was three days before the boys returned, bringing two gold bars back with them. Apparently one of them had bought a treasure map from a traveller that actually led to something. Dutch was impressed. Those boys needed a reward. Sitting at the fire beside Arthur he mulled over some possibilities. It would be wise to remain in camp, he didn’t want someone like Colm O’Driscoll getting wind of his feelings for Arthur or Hosea. John, well that was purely self indulgent. 

A drink was pushed into his hand by a smiling Arthur. He took it and returned his grin. “Cheers boys! To prosperity! We’ll make a decent run of this yet!” 

As the singing started he made a quiet disappearance, spying Hosea looking out over the plains he approached him. “Hey, Hosea.”

“Evening, Dutch. Beautiful night isn’t it?” His voice was small and distant as he looks up at the dark sky littered with pin pricks of light. The full moon shed ample light, allowing Dutch to see the small smile adorning his face as he drifted in thought. 

“I want to do something for the boys but don’t know if I should take them out or not. Them damn O’Driscolls are becoming an issue.” He rubbed the back of his neck and scuffed the dirt with his boot. 

“Stay here, Dutch. No one here cares. Can send Abigail and Jack to town, it’s good for the boy. Too risky for someone to notice and they both become targets.” Hosea sighed and smiled sadly at Dutch. “We’ll keep them safe.” 

He reached forward and set his hand on Hosea’s cheek. “We have to keep you safe too. I’m not sure I could do this all without you.” 

“Now, Dutch. Ain’t nothing going to happen to me. I won’t let you lose your way.” Hosea kissed him softly, then patted his cheek. “Get some sleep, I’ll speak to Abigail and I’ll take all the ladies into town tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, Hosea.” With another tender kiss, Dutch made for his tent. A deep sigh rocked him as he plopped on his cot, opening his book once more. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, just that it was still dark, and he had fallen asleep, stretched out on the cot. 

Arthur stumbled in and hiccuped, “Hey, sexy.”

“You’re drunk, Arthur.” Dutch couldn’t help but chuckle. Arthur collapses on top of him and was asleep within second. “Oh, son.” He maneuvered Arthur so he was seated more comfortably beside him and kissed the top of his head.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a tad short but it felt right to break it here. Fun stuff to follow!

A soft hum came from Dutch as he quietly set up Molly’s candles. This morning while Arthur slept he had asked Hosea to pick up a few different things for him from Blackwater. Dutch didn’t think showing his face so soon after the business with Micah would be a great idea. 

His faithful friend returned with what he’d asked for and then some. Flowers, alcohol, sweet smiling oils and supplies for a meal fit for a king. Dutch had raised his hands in awe at Hosea’s thoughtfulness. 

Now Pearson was grilling up some lamb, making some sort of potato and cheese side. He had intended on doing this himself, but the man had kindly offered his services. 

Finally satisfied at the arrangement of the flowers and candles, he looked at his sleeping son. Dutch set a mixture of herbs down on the crate beside Arthur and smiled as he went to fetch John. Hosea had done as he said he would and the camp was mostly empty. 

“John.” He set a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “Ready?” Giving him a tug on his sleeve, Dutch headed back toward his tent and a sleeping Arthur. He stopped and let John go in ahead of him with a gentlemanly bow. 

“Hey Arthur. How you feelin’?” John’s voice was raspy and low. “Think this here’s for you, should ease the headache.” 

The only response he got was a grunt and an outstretched hand. Dutch closed up the tent and regarded Arthur and John. 

“S’not too bad. Need to eat.” Arthur coughed and looked around at the scene before him. “Wha-?” 

“Gentlemen? Your dinner will be served shortly.” Pearson announced. 

Dutch smirked and held a hand out to Arthur, “Care to join us?” John sidled passed him and held the tent canvass open, making a salute like a doorman with a chuckle. Shock was plain on Arthur’s face when and Dutch couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that replaced his smirk. He absolutely loved taking people off guard. Taking his hand, Arthur smiled back at him and shook his head. 

Earlier that day, Dutch had taken the time to set out the camp’s nicest glassware and plates on their poker table that he had covered with a white cloth. Carefully, he arranged several different bottles of fine wines and liquors, fussing over them several times before being satisfied. 

He guided Arthur to one of the makeshift seats, making him grin wildly. “Thank you, Mister van der Linde.” 

This pulled a chuckle from Pearson, who approached with three plates of food, setting them down. “Thank you, Mr. Pearson.” When he paused Dutch looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Feel free to help yourself to what’s left. Arthur, John, a drink?” 

“Please. Rum, if you don’t mind.” John answered first, clearly impressed by Dutch’s efforts. 

“I’ll take a glass of red wine. Don’t usually have the opportunity.” Arthur sat with his chin resting on his palm, tapping the fingers of his other hand on the table as his watched Dutch. Dutch smiled warmly at him and poured their drinks, helping himself to a generous glass of whiskey before seating himself at the last open space on the table.

“Well boys, I just wanted to say thank you for all you’ve done in the passed little while. We’ve been making great progress towards our freedom. I don’t want to run forever. Hosea is getting to the age where it’s time to slow down. I’d like to become ranchers out a distance from Blackwater. If we proceed carefully we can manage. Could breed horses and raise cattle. I like the idea of not looking over my shoulder for all of you.” Dutch sighed, the weight of caring for so many had become hard to bear. John’s eyes widened and he looked at him slack jawed, with a fork full of lamb halfway to his mouth. 

“You wanna breed horses and raise cattle?!” The level of surprise in his voice made Dutch shake his head at the young mans naivety. 

“John, I’m getting older. It’s time to look for a way out. I’ve fought for our family my whole life, fought against the changes this world is making, but it’s a waste.” Dutch sighed and took a swill of whiskey. “Now I have to fight to set us free from the consequences of all those years of fighting on the wrong front. It’s an uphill battle, but if there’s a way, we’ll make it.” 

“We’ll work together and make a plan, Dutch.” Arthur’s tone was warm. “‘Sides, I think you’d make a fine rancher. No rustler would be stealing our mares.” 

A bark of laughter erupted from John, “Naw, definitely not. I like the idea.” 

The men finished their meals and several more drinks with more jokes about how they would run their ranch and laughter at possible corny names for their future homestead. Dutch rose and cleared the table. He returned after dumping them in the wash bin and collecting some of the largest peaches he had ever seen. A smile tugged at his lips as he paused. Hosea. It was just like him to remember that they were Dutch’s absolute favorite sweet treat, candies being too sweet for his taste. 

Dutch smiled and handed one to each of his s  
ons he asked, “Shall we bring these to my tent?”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday, folks!

Dutch examined his peach and smiled. Hosea had picked them perfectly. He didn’t like them soft and mushy, but unripe so they have a distinct crunch. Dutch wound his gramophone and turned to looked at his boys. He set the peach down without taking a bite and began lighting candles slowly. John turned to a bewildered Arthur and put his hands on his chest, smiling widely. 

“Arthur...” His voice was low and needy. Arthur tilted his head to watch John and took bite of his peach. 

“Mm.” Dutch closed his eyes and smiled. He loved the way Arthur’s voice sounded. Desire started to pool in his stomach as the sound reverberated in his chest. Finally finishing with the candles he turned to find Arthur’s eyes on him as John began to play with his belt. Dutch absently reached for a cigar and winked at Arthur before turning his attention to John. 

“Well John, you seem very enthusiastic...” this drew a chuckle from both boys. 

“I been thinkin’ about doin’ this with the both of you for so damn long. I can’t help it.” John paused and took a bite of the peach Arthur was holding, catching his attention before dropping to his knees, making Arthur’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. 

“Good place for you, Marston.” A spark shone in those endless blue eyes that said he’d envisioned John there before. 

“Shut up, Morgan.” John yanked on his belt and it opened with a pop. 

“Boys.” Two sets of eyes snapped to his own. “Behave, or so help me God, this will turn into a punishment instead of a reward.” Dutch’s voice was steel. Hosea had warned him of the sibling rivalry causing issues and he wasn’t about to allow that to flare up now. He watched as the colour drained from both their faces at being reprimanded like children. 

John busied himself by taking the opportunity to slide Arthur’s trousers and underwear down, revealing his half hard erection. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you enjoyed being scolded by Dutch..” John’s voice was like silk. Dutch watched the exchange with interest, noting the blush that had risen in Arthur’s cheeks and how his cock had twitched at John’s words. He took his hat off his head and dropped it beside his gramophone. 

With a puff of his cigar, Dutch smiled at Arthur, who had been watching his reaction out of the corner of his eye. Dutch advanced on the pair until he was inches from Arthur’s ear. He entwined his fingers in John’s hair and coaxed him forward, smirking as he eagerly took Arthur’s thick length in his mouth. Leaning closer, Dutch whispered softly, “Now, this was supposed to be a reward, but if you want me to punish you, all you have to do is say the word.” 

He could hear a chuckle from John as Arthur shuddered. “Dutch..” A smile spread across his lips and he walked to the ashtray sitting on his barrel. Ever so slowly, he butted the cigar out and picked up his peach. Arthur unbuttoned his dress shirt and let it fall off his shoulders. Gently, he brushed John’s hair out of his face and held it at the back of his head before making eye contact with Dutch once more. 

Taking a bite, he advanced on the pair. Dutch smirked at Arthur, who watched every move he made while John sucked him off. Looking down at the young man, he continued to munch on his peach. Arthur reached for him and brought him into a rough kiss, full of desire and need. Dutch discarded the peach pit he held and brushed his fingers across Arthur’s cheekbone. He responded by tearing at Dutch’s waistcoat, opening button after button until he found skin. Arthur tossed his peach and pushed the shirt off Dutch’s shoulders. He laughed and watched as John stood, looking into Arthur’s eyes. Dutch took John by his shirt and slowly undressed him while Arthur watched. 

After Dutch had removed his shirt a cunning smile lit his face. “My turn, son.” John looked at him with fire in his eyes, not wanting to disobey, but clearly wanting to continue his efforts with Arthur. Dutch tilted his head and put a hand on his shoulder, effectively pushing him down without much effort. He popped open his belt buckle and pulled himself out. Arthur was on him in seconds, kissing his neck and exploring his body with his hands. John opened his mouth, taking him inside slowly. 

“Shit.” Dutch closed his eyes and tried to control the tremor running through his body. This was supposed to be a reward for them, but it was impossible to think with both his boys paying attention to him like this. He heard Arthur chuckle at him and turned to him. Arthur’s surprisingly soft lips met his own and he groaned, taking Arthur’s cock in hand. John’s mouth felt so damn good. He relished in the feeling of the head of his dick hitting the back of John’s throat. 

“Dutch, I need you..” Arthur’s breath was hot on his neck. 

“You don’t want to take John, Arthur?” The movement on his cock stopped. Arthur grabbed John by the hair and lifted him, using the leverage to deposit him face-first onto the cot. 

“Damnit Arthur, ain’t no need for that.” John whined as he propped himself up and looked over his shoulder.

“Shut it, boy.” Dutch smiled. He liked to see Arthur take charge. Large hands tore at John’s pants, exposing his ass and hard cock. 

“Something tells me you enjoy being thrown around, John.” Dutch smiled and walked towards him, stopping once his waist was in front of his face. John’s eyes met his as Arthur pushed inside of him dry, making his eyes go wide. A wail tore out of him that Dutch likely wouldn’t soon forget. He watched as Arthur began to thrust into him feverishly, taking hold of John’s narrow hips, holding him in place. 

“Like that, Marston?” Arthurs voice was heavy with desire. 

“God damnit!” The man’s voice was nearly shrill as Arthur slammed into him. Dutch couldn’t help but palm at his own cock at the sight before him. Here were his boys, ruthless killers at best, giving in to their most basic sexual needs. He watched as Arthur rutted into John and smiled when blue eyes met his own. 

“Dutch...” He couldn’t get over the desire that coloured Arthur’s voice and went to him. His movements were needy and persistent. Dutch dragged his fingers up John’s spine, earning him a feminine whine that made his cock jerk. More than anything, he wanted them both to be pleasuring him. 

“Harder, Arthur.” Dutch said the words on an exhale of breath, barely loud enough to be heard but Arthur obliged with vigour. He felt more desperate than he figured he should but allowed the feeling to intensify before he indulged himself. 

A low, rumbling moan started in Arthur’s chest, granting Dutch a moment to observe both of them. He’d began to sweat as he thrusted into John, who had his eyes closed with pleasure. His jaw was slack and small mewls left him as Arthur used him for his own pleasure. 

“Never thought you’d be one to take it without a word, boy.” The heat hadn’t left Arthur’s voice when he spoke to John. Dutch moves so he was behind Arthur and pressed against him. 

“Damn...” Each thrust that Arthur gave pushed against him in a way that drove him wild. Dutch places a genteel kiss on Arthur’s shoulder, to which he whined in response. He started to rut against Arthur involuntarily, meaning when his cock slipped between Arthur’s cheeks. 

“C’mere Dutch.” John held a hand out as if to guide him over. He acquiesced, letting out a low groan when John’s lips wrapped around his cock. Making eye contact with Arthur, he grabbed ahold of John’s hair and thrust into him hard. Briefly, he flashed back to the first time he’d been with John and vowed to make this more brutal. 

A sadistic chuckle came from Dutch and he pulled out of John’s mouth and moved towards Arthur. Questioning eyes met his, to which he responded with a smile and a seat to John’s ass.

“Move, son.” This brought a smile to Arthur’s lips and he immediately obeyed . Dutch settled into the spot he had been and took John by the hair, lifting him so he was once again in the position he had been weeks ago. “Such a good boy.” 

With that he slipped inside, baring his teeth against John’s neck. John swore and pushed back against him, making Dutch latch on with his teeth. He couldn’t help it. There would be no mistaking the mark he would leave this time. Arthur stood behind him and kissed his neck. Hands moved from his hips to his ass with a decisive squeeze. Dutch released John’s neck and turned to Arthur. 

“Like what you see, son?” He couldn’t help but smile as he bucked into John, leaving him a moaning mess beneath him. 

“Watchin’ you fuck him is beyond what I could imagine, Dutch.” Arthur’s voice was deep and husky while he dotted kisses up and down Dutch’s neck. Dutch could feel his cock against his leg, hard and leaking a stream of pre-cum. He couldn’t help but turn and kiss Arthur, shoving his tongue into his mouth. “I want you to fuck me. “ 

A wicked smile cracked Dutch’s face as he pulled out and guided Arthur to the position he’d been in moments before. John squirmed at the loss of contact and moaned when Arthur’s cock entered him again. Dutch pressed against Arthur and settled his hands on his hips, kissing his neck gently. He spit in his hand and reached down to slip it between Arthur’s cheeks. A slow smile spread across his face as Arthur loosened up, allowing him access to a more than willing entrance. 

As his finger slipped inside Arthur grunted and continued fucking John in earnest. Dutch couldn’t help himself and removed his finger, quickly replacing it with his throbbing dick. Arthur clutched John’s hair and paused, letting a low, long moan leave him as Dutch seated himself to the hilt inside of him. 

“Fuck Arthur, please don’t stop.” John’s voice was low and gravelly. He held the sheets firmly and pushed back against Arthur. 

“Damnit John.” Arthur growled the words and leaned over him before thrusting into him with renewed enthusiasm. Dutch hissed as the movement caused Arthur’s ass to tighten around him. He set a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and the other on his hip, slowly pushing himself deeper. 

A long groan came from underneath Arthur as John threw his head back, “God damnit!” 

Dutch couldn’t help but smile from his place thrusting into Arthur. “Gonna cum for us, son?”

His only response was another whine, this one extending until John was out of breath, open mouthed and not making a sound. A breathy chuckled came from Arthur as he continued at a fast pace. Dutch was quickly approaching his own orgasm as he felt Arthur’s rhythm stutter, then stop. 

“There you go, Marston.” The words were little more than a grunt, earning a chuckle from beauty him. Dutch waited to feel muscle contract and bucked into Arthur roughly, taking full advantage of his tightness. Each thrust made him dizzy and before he knew it, he was whining just as bad as John had been earlier. 

“Arthur..” Dutch’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he finished, pulling a moan from Arthur as well. 

Slowly, he pulled out of Arthur with a grunt. John was already picking up his shirt with a grin on his face as he watch Dutch intently. 

“I was thinkin’... if we get a reward for bein’ good, you gonna punish us if we’re bad..?” There was a distinct sly undertone in his voice. 

Dutch turned to face him with a wicked smile, “Why don’t you try it and find out, son?”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how this happened, but here it is! Sorry I took so long to add an update to this one. This is getting very self indulgent.

Dutch was pissed. He’d planned this job perfectly and John fucked it up by being too trigger happy.

“How many TIMES do I have to tell you this, John? _Wait. For. My. Signal._ That was a two thousand dollar job, and we got nothing but _bounties_.” His voice steadily got louder as he continued. Dutch was barely in control as he watched John cower in front of him. This was now the third time John had fucked up a job, the loss for this one was much greater and Dutch was beyond livid. He dragged John by the ear and deposited him on the crate in front of his tent. “ _Stay_ while I decide what to do with you.”

Steam was all but pouring out of his ears as he approached Abigail. He handed her a fistful of bills. “Take the boy to town.” Dutch didn’t care to stick around for a response and rounded to find Hosea behind him.

“Easy, Dutch.” Hosea spoke with an even tone, clearly trying to settle him, to no avail.

“The little shit cost us three thousand dollars or more in the last month, Hosea. I will _not_ stand by and let it continue!” Dutch raged at the older man, gesturing wildly and getting more frustrated when his voice cracked. A low growl emitted from him as he sidestepped around Hosea and stalked towards John.

“I will not suffer your foolishness any longer. The money we could have collected..” Dutch seethed and knocked John off the crate with the back of his hand. The smack resounded through camp.

“Shitt!” John’s hat went flying as he tumbled backwards off the crate into the stud holding up Dutch’s tent. It was rather comical, but Dutch was far too angry to see the humour in it. He had to fight the urge to hurt him too badly.

“I can only hope you weren’t doing this on purpose..” Dutch narrowed his eyes as John struggled to his feet. Another hard slap, this time with the back of his ring adorned hand, causing John to stumble sideways a little.

“Dutch, I-“ He slapped him again, harder this time. John wobbled back on his heels and Dutch grabbed him by the shirt, bringing him against his chest.

“I didn’t ask you a question. I can’t help but wonder.. this is quite out of character for you, son.” Dutch spoke the words through gritted teeth, only just now noticing they had the attention of most of the remaining members of camp, including Arthur. He wrapped his fingers around John’s throat and gave a small squeeze, head falling back at the sight of John’s eyes widening and him tearing at his fingers with dirty nails.

“Someone oughta teach you to bathe regularly, boy. You’re filthy.” Dutch let him go and chuckled as his knees buckled and he landed on them with a soft thump. _Crack._  A yelp sounded as Dutch’s fist made contact with his jaw, knocking him onto his side. 

“Goddamn it!” John rubbed his jaw and looked up at Dutch, who was smiling down at him with a mischievous glint in his eye. He reached for his hair and started to laugh, low and quiet.

“ _Yeah_... _come here_...” Greasy hair sifted through his fingers and he gripped hard and pulled, turning toward the wash barrel near Pearson’s wagon. Dutch grinned at Bill who was watching them eagerly. John struggled against him, cursing and bitching the whole way across camp. He stopped when they reached the barrel  and held John so he had to look him in the eye. 

“Hold your breath, son.” Dutch looked over his shoulder to see he still had the attention of the onlookers and winked at no one in particular. He looked back to John and smirked before dunking his head in the water and plunging a hand in after to give him a gentle scrub. Dutch yanked him back out, sending water flying through the air in several directions. He pointed at the water and said, “Hands.”

 _This is far too much fun._ Dutch watched as he scrubbed his hands and looked to Dutch for approval. He snorted and said, “Again. You still have dirt under your fingernails.” John’s cheeks blushed scarlet as Bill and Susan laughed outright. Dutch looked back to them and smirked.

“Get on your knees, now that you’re clean, I don’t mind letting you touch me.” His voice was steel, staring directly into John’s eyes as he slowly dropped to the ground.

“Oh, shit!” Bill’s voice was eager, greedy almost. He looked to Bill and saw his already strained pants bulging at the front. Dutch looked back to John and clutched his freshly washed mop of hair and pressed his face against his crotch, thrusting ever so slightly.

“Bill wants to watch you suck my cock. Maybe I should make you suck his too, hmm?” Dutch smiled as John closed his eyes and pushed against him.

“I think Bill wants you to fuck him.” Dutch yanked him away and slapped him, startling everyone but himself.

“Mind your place, boy.” Dutch snarled the words and ripped his gun belt off, holding it out as a silent request for someone to set it somewhere safe for him. Hosea obliged and gingerly set it on the card table. He unsnapped his suspenders and pushed his pants low enough for easy access. “Just for that, you _will_  be servicing Bill as well.” Dutch rolled his neck and looked over at the man, who looked like someone had handed him a briefcase full of hundred dollar bills. He all but yowled as he rushed over, looking down at John with a lopsided grin.

“Dutch I really don’t think-“ John’s voice had taken on a whining pitch, irritating Dutch all the more.

“That’s clear. You wanted to be punished, it isn’t at your discretion as to how, son.” John looked at him and sighed. “Poor Bill.. Look at him. Nearly busting at the seams for you, John.”

Dutch watched as John looked over to Bill, who was now standing beside Dutch, rubbing his cock through his pants.

“Alright, come on then. Let’s get this done.” An unmistakable glint was in John’s eye as he positioned himself in front of the large man. Bill pulled his dick out and smiled at John.

“Seems like you like bein’ a cock slut.” Bill’s voice was husky with desire. Dutch slowly pumped his cock while he watched, smiling as John took control and looked over at him for approval.

Dutch swatted Bill on the ass and smiled, “Not bad there, Bill. Don’t be too nice to him.”

This drew a grunt from the man as he pulled John’s head down onto himself roughly. His gaze rested on Dutch’s thin hips, where a glittering hand slowly ran the length of his cock. Dutch couldn’t help but smile. Making a show of it, he ran a thumb over the slit and letting his eyes close at the sensation.

“Fuck..” Bill’s eyes hadn’t left him, it seemed John’s earlier deduction may have been based in truth. Dutch smirked at him and blew air through his lips at a particularly rough stroke. He moved forward and took John’s hair in hand, pulling him off Bill and in front of himself. He watched John’s eyelids fluttered and he opened his mouth, making Dutch groan as his tongue slid along the underside of his cock.

“God damn that’s hot.” Bill stuttered out as he jerked his cock quickly. Dutch watched as he pushed a hand down on his navel, breathing hard. “You ready Marston?

A smile cracked across Dutch’s face as he positioned John right in front of Bill as he bucked his hips up, “Aw shitttt..!”

John flinched as Bill painted his face and Dutch revelled in the emotion bleeding from both of them. The friction of his hand against the skin of his cock was sending waves of pleasure throughout his body. Dutch turned to see Hosea seated in a chair, sporting a devilish grin as he smiled a cigarette. His heart stopped as he made eye contact with the man and the mounting tension in him reached its peak making Dutch growl as he released.

Tearing his eyes from Hosea was difficult, but he turned his attention back to John. “Now, go clean yourself up and make your way into town for a proper bath, son. You smell like a damn pig sty.”

Dutch patted the top of his head and chuckled. _Far too much fun._  Striding over to Hosea, he regarded him with curiosity. What had he been thinking?

“So? No lecture?” Dutch watched as Hosea’s eyes flashed.

“Oh how I’d like you to misbehave, Dutch. I’d love to paddle that ass of yours.. among other things..” The words made his mouth run dry. Hosea was a mystery, and the savage look in his eye said he meant those words. Dutch gestured to where he had stood with John and Bill moments earlier.

“Surprised that don’t count.” He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him as he sat beside Hosea, who stood and closed the distance between them. Grabbing his chin and inspecting his neck.

“I notice you don’t let the boys mark you. Why is that?” His tone was low and intimate. Dutch didn’t say a word, just watched as he chuckled and made his way across camp.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boah.

_Goddamn_ _Hosea_. Dutch shook his head, _what on Earth was going on?_ He started drinking. Lots of whiskey, before switching to rum. He’d already put back several bottles of each when he decided it’d be a good idea to stumble into camp to find someone to talk to.

Most of the gang that was still awake were seated around the campfire, laughing and singing. Dutch stumbled up to them and began singing along. Chugging another bottle of rum, he took Hosea in his arms and began dancing, each fighting for the lead. Dutch smiled and spun him, earning him a nasty look.

“Think you’re in charge, do you?” Hosea’s voice was laden with amusement.

“Oh, I know so, old girl.” Dutch wore a cunning smile and dipped him, pulling laughter from the group and a surprised gasp from Hosea. The group around the campfire whistled and hooted at them as Dutch brought his lips to Hosea’s. The man was tense but yielded to him, Dutch absolutely loved it too. The haze of the liquor and burning desire were enough for him to want to drag Hosea to his tent.

“Ain’t that just so sweet! I always thought they made a cute couple but never said anythin’.” Mary-Beth’s voice was as delicate as ever, wistful and soft. Dutch led Hosea into another sweeping turn, attempting to ignore the conversation around them.

Karen guffawed loudly, likely as drunk as Dutch was. Hosea looked up at him with a peculiar look on his face. “That’s a crock of shit and we all know it! You say looooots about ol’ Dutch.”

A smirk hit Hosea’s lips, drawing a smile from Dutch. He looked over to see Mary-Beth swat Karen before hiding behind her romance novel. _How adorable_. She was maturing into a fine young woman, Dutch yanked his attention back to Hosea before his alcohol-infused brain led his thoughts elsewhere.

Javier’s song ended and Dutch bowed to Hosea, giggles emitting from everyone, including both of them.

“Hosea, would you be a dear and fetch us some of my good whiskey?” The man nodded with a smirk and set off toward Dutch’s tent. More giggling drew his attention back to the campfire, Mary-Beth and Karen were whispering behind her book but stopped abruptly when they noticed his gaze. Dutch couldn’t help but notice them both turn bright red before busying themselves. He stumbled to sit beside Javier, not beside the blushing ladies, but across from them so he could observe.

At that moment, Hosea plopped himself down on the log with a groan. The bottle of whiskey was set against his hand, so he curled his fingers around it. Hosea looked at him with tired eyes.

“I gotta get some rest, Dutch. Don’t be up too late.” With a pat on the knee, Hosea rose and walked off to his bedroll. 

“Well ladies, I may as well ask what you think of my plan.” Dutch paused when five sets of eyes snapped to him, even though he addressed the women directly.

“Oh?” Susan looked genuinely curious.

“I want to get some land and settle down. Pay off our bounties, get some horses and cattle. The Count would make a lovely stud.” He drifted off into thought. His steed was an Arabian, if they could find a mare, those foals would sell for top dollar. Maybe even thoroughbreds for racing, gentlemen love racing.. It dawned on him that he could use his skill for creating schemes for a higher purpose than robbing trains. The world was changing, after all.

“Dutch, it may be hard to sustain us all at first.” Susan was always an essential part to his planning process. If there was any one thing that he overlooked, she would point it out without hesitation.

“I’ve been thinkin’ on that. How to get enough money to purchase some livestock and land without causin’ too much trouble.” Dutch sighed. It was the largest roadblock and one he hadn’t figured out how to overcome.

“I been.. writin’ this book, Dutch. I know it ain’t much, but maybe we could get it published and bring in some money that way.” Mary-Beth’s voice was shaking but hopeful. Dutch grinned at her.

“Why, Mary-Beth. I knew you was a reader, but a writer? I would be honoured to read your book.” He pressed a hand to his chest and leaned toward her. “We’ll do just that, Miss. We will talk to Hosea in the morning, I’m sure he will have some ideas on how to do this.”

“Oh, thank you! This is so exciting!” The girl clapped and Karen laughed at her, nearly falling into the dirt and getting a laugh from the rest of the group. Dutch brought the liquor bottle to his lips and took a long drink. His hat fell off his head and he didn’t even bother to pick it back up.

“It sure is exciting..” His eyes rested on Mary-Beth for a few moments. Unsurprisingly, she dropped her gaze to the hands in her lap, which fidgeted slightly. Dutch couldn’t help but let his eyes travel from her face to her bosom. Damn, that dress was low-cut. He shook his head.

“Not even twenty-five and we’ll get you published as a writer. Now that, is a good plan, Miss.” His voice dropped as his eyes continued to follow the line of her body, smiling as Karen elbowed her and nodded at Dutch. He smirked and didn’t take his gaze off her waist. Another swing of the bottle.

“Another song, Javier. A slow one.” Dutch finished his bottle and forgot any resignation that he may have had. Rising, he dropped the bottle and strode toward the girl. At less than half his age, he knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but simply wondered if he could manage bedding her. Dutch extended his hand once he stood in front of Mary-Beth. She looked up at him through long, dark eyelashes before taking his hand.

A delicate touch landed on his shoulder as Javier began a lovely cadence on his guitar. Dutch smiled as he felt the warm press of her body against his own. He lead her in a lovely dance, twirling her and getting a cute giggle. Dutch couldn’t help but laugh with her. After a twirl, he brought her particularly roughly back against his chest, smirking when she gasped and looked up at him. Dutch held eye-contact as Javier’s singing began, he didn’t know what the words meant but the soft nature of them was pleasing to the ear. 

As the song continued he could tell Mary-Beth was starting to feel some tension. Dutch allowed his hand to rest a little lower on her waist, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Now Mr. van der Linde, that hand is getting a little low..” Mary-Beth’s voice shook in just the slightest way.

“Does that bother you, Miss?” Dutch pulled her closer to him. Karen whistled at them, ending in a fit of giggles. 

“Naw, she don’t mind at all!” He wasn’t sure how Karen managed to drink all that she did, but Lord, was that woman ever a sponge. Mary-Beth’s cheeks had gone scarlet.

“Is that right?” He moved his thumb from resting on her side with the rest of his fingers to the front of her hipbone and squeezed slightly.

“Oh! Well, no, of course I don’t mind. “ Mary-Beth spoke delicately, a soft smile lifting her lips. Dutch couldn’t help but look to them, a burst of desire fuelling him almost as strongly as the alcohol he’d consumed. He flicked his eyes back to her’s. Doe-eyed and innocent in his arms, Dutch smiled before leaning in slowly, giving her enough time to refuse him. Mary-Beth’s eyes fluttered closed and Dutch smirked before he gently pressed his lips to her’s. Taking her waist in both hands he pressed her against him, making her gasp against his lips. Her hands were gentle on his shoulders, but their grip tightened marginally when he had pulled her against his chest.

“Dutch, what on Earth are you doing?” Susan’s voice cut through the moment, breaking through his trance like frame of mind. Mary-Beth withdrew her lips and looked up at him, breath coming quickly. Neither of them looked away.

“I don’t know, Miss Grimshaw.” Dutch squeezed Mary-Beth’s waist again, testing her. This time, she pressed against him with another little gasp.

“Yes you do, now get gone!” Susan’s voice was somehow sharper this time. Dutch still refused to look away from Mary-Beth.

“This fine young woman can make her own decisions, now can’t she?” Dutch kept his voice low, speaking to Mary-Beth and not Susan. Red flared in her cheeks once again, but she slid a hand down the front of his vest. He smirked at her, eyes flashing with firelight. Bringing up his right hand, Dutch gently brushed her cheekbone with the backs of his fingers.

“I-I sure can.” Dutch kissed her again, firmer this time. Mary-Beth melted against him, bringing a hand to curl around the nape of his neck.

“Then both of you get gone!” Annoyance coursed through him.

“Susan.” Dutch looked at her and narrowed his eyes before taking Mary-Beth back to his tent. Her face was flushed, hands shaking.

“You alright, Miss?” His words were soft in the stillness of the night. Mary-Beth turned and smiled.

“I dunno, I guess I’m a little nervous.” Her eyes flicked away quickly and Dutch understood. They reached the tent and Dutch took her in his arms once more.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you..” He watched as her eyes grew wide and he kissed her again, lifting her and setting her gently on the cot. Dutch laid on top of her, hand running from her hip to her breast, causing her to arch against him. He knew he’d have to guide her through this.

“Dutch...” She whispered his name against his lips. Dutch felt the buzz of arousal spike drastically at this, igniting a fire inside him. His mouth travelled across her jaw and down her neck, spurred on by a soft moan from Mary-Beth. Thin fingers curled into his hair as he kissed the top of her breast.

“Now, if you want me to stop, you just say the word.” Dutch made the promise and knew he would honour it if necessary. Her fingers tightened in his hair, making him chuckle. “Feisty, I like that..”

He slowly worked the buttons on her dress open, nearly swooning once he had full view of her breasts. Large and perky, he took a nipple in his mouth and gently cupped the other breast. Mary-Beth moaned and he felt his cock stir at the sound. Through the haze of the alcohol Dutch pushed her dress down further, exposing a thin waist and wide hips. 

“Mm, a fine woman, indeed. I want you, darling. I want to have you.” Dutch growled the words, desire flooding through him like the raging rapids before a waterfall. He straightened up and began unbuttoning his vest and shirt, never taking his eyes off of Mary-Beth. She shimmied out of her dress and pushed it off the bed, smiling slyly at him.

“I want you to take me, Dutch. Just.. be gentle?” Her voice was small, barely breaking the silence. His shirt hit the floor without a sound so he moved on to removing his trousers.

“‘Course. How could I be any different with such a delicate flower such as yourself?” Her eyes widened at the sight of his cock, now swollen and throbbing. He laid on her once more, pressing himself against her leg.

“Oh!” Dutch silenced her with a kiss, bringing his hand to Mary-Beth’s hip. He pressed against her and allowed his hands to trail along the outside of her thigh, groaning when she pushed her hips up against him. Dutch opened her legs gently, sliding his hand down the inside of her leg, reaching the wet folds between them.

“Look at you, you wanted this, didn’t you?” He lowered his face so he was between Mary-Beth’s legs. A gentle nip to the inside of her thigh made her gasp, much louder this time. Soft kisses had her squirming under his touch until his lips found her clit, making her cry out in pleasure. Dutch eased his tongue out, tasting her, teasing her. Her hands found the back of his head, gripping tightly. He wanted nothing more than to get to it, but even in his drunken state, he knew he had to be careful or risk hurting her.

A lone finger slowly pressed inside her, earning Dutch another moan. He groaned against her, cock twitching at how tight she was. Mary-Beth arched her back while he gently prodded another finger into her hole. She grabbed his sheets and watched as he sucked on her clit, cheeks hollowing ever so slightly.

“Oh, that feels-“ Mary-Beth’s words cut off in another groan when Dutch pushed his fingers in to the knuckle, tongue flicking against her clit. He felt her tighten around him as her pussy gushed liquid, coating his moustache, cheeks and hand. He would have to wash his rings later. Now she was ready for him. 

Dutch wiped his face and remounted Mary-Beth, pushing against her soaking folds and growling at the feeling. Ever so slowly, he took hold of his aching length and pressed the head against her.He met her eyes and pushed inside at a painfully slow pace. A gasp escaped her and he paused, waiting for the tension to leave her shoulders.

“Keep going, Dutch.” He groaned into her neck and continued leisurely. After a few moments he was seated fully inside her tight pussy, trembling at the sensation pulsing through him. Dutch thrust against her, working up speed.

“Fuck.” Dutch growled and continued bucking into her. Mary-Beth clutched his bare shoulders, fingernails digging into the skin and no doubt leaving telltale red scratches. She moaned his name and arched against him, driving him wild. He loved to make his partner scream him name. Dutch made a particularly hard thrust and nipped her neck. She tilted her head, which he took as an invitation to leave his mark on yet another. Dutch growled as Mary-Beth tightened around him, weaving her fingers into his hair once again.

Whether it was the alcohol or the gravity of the situation, Dutch felt himself plunging toward his climax much faster than he would have liked. Pressing his lips to her exposed throat, he sucked and bit the skin, drawing little mewls from Mary-Beth. Her legs wrapped tightly around him as she hit her second climax, moaning shrilly into the night.

Without warning Dutch felt the mounting tension inside him grow to be too much, then release. He breathed heavily against her as he filled her with his seed, sighing as her hips twitched against him. 

Dutch lay beside Mary-Beth smoking, barely getting half the cigar finished before putting it out and wrapping his arms around her. She sighed and curled into him, and they were both soon asleep.

 

Morning came with a blast of sunlight, and a headache. Mary-Beth was gone, not that he remembered the night before just yet, and judging by the quality of light filtering into his tent, it was mid-morning.

“Shit.” Dutch fumbled to his nightstand to find a tonic. Memories of last night came to him in flashes. Hosea was going to kill him.

Dutch barely had enough time to thoroughly recall the events of the night before when Hosea himself burst into his tent. 

“Dutch van der Linde, you have done many things in this life, but seducing that girl? Eh, you would never have done it sober and you know it!” Dutch had never seen Hosea so angry with him, even when his impatience interferes with their plans.

“Hosea-“ Shock rocked him as the back of Hosea’s hand snapped his head to the side.

“You’re gonna get worse than a paddling, boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dutch the camp slut.


	26. Chapter 26

“Shit!” Dutch snarled the word in pain. He knew he fucked up, but this wasn’t what he’d expected.

“You really do just think you can do whatever you please, don’t you?” There was no quarter in the man’s voice, and for once Dutch felt the cold grip of fear. Hosea had taken him off guard, striking when he knew Dutch would be distracted. He found himself on his knees in front of Hosea, mind racing.

“Hosea-“ This time, a fist collided with his jaw.

“The time for your words is over, Dutch. I don’t know what the Hell you’re thinking. She’s a girl. A child!” Hosea was all but screaming in his face. Dutch narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth at him.

“She’s no child, I assure you. She was more than willing.” Hosea shook his head at that, placing hands on hips. Dutch knelt on the floor of his tent with hands bound behind him. A man who was usually so put together he was not happy to be in this position. He’d been relieved of his shirt, muscles tense and pulling against the thick rope encircling his wrists.

“How do you expect to settle down when you go and do things like that? Do you recall _Molly_?” Hosea pulled out a riding crop and looked at Dutch.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” The words were a growl and Hosea laughed outright at him before bringing it heavily down on his side. Dutch roared and doubled over.

“You think you’re going to stop me? No, boy.” Hosea brought the leather tool down on his back. Dutch struggled against the ropes and breathed heavily, stray hairs sticking to his forehead. Strong hands lifted him by his arm and pushed him onto the cot. Dutch snarled and looked back at Hosea who’d raised an arm. No stranger to torture, the crop only angered him more. Hosea belted him several times before tossing it on the bed beside him.

“Now, I know that doesn’t bother you none, but I know what will.” Suddenly, fingers curled in his hair and yanked him upward. Hosea tilted his head to the side and Dutch hissed.

“Hosea..” He showed his teeth and glared at the man, who simply smiled at him.

“So dominant, so possessive.. Now look at you.” Hosea dug his teeth into Dutch neck, making his eyes widen in surprise. He had wondered if Hosea had it in him. A groan left him that surprised him, but not Hosea. He abused the skin directly under Dutch’s right ear until it was marked with angry red teeth marks and deep purple bruises starting. Bucking against Hosea like a startled horse caused the man to latch on tighter, sucking on the skin hard.His bound hands and awkward position prevented Dutch from moving Hosea even an inch. He stopped struggling and sighed.

Letting him go, Hosea chuckled. Dutch wrenched himself to the side and onto his back, wincing at the friction on the irritated skin of his back. Hosea stilled.

“Choose your next move wisely.” Dutch watched him, still pulling against his bonds. He wouldn’t say it aloud, but he was enjoying this. A smirk hit his face as the rope slipped just slightly and he wrenched his wrists apart. The rope burned his skin as he twisted and turned his hands, effectively rubbing them raw but sliding out of the knot nonetheless.

A belt looped around his throat and he froze. “I had hoped you wouldn’t be this way.” Hosea tsked his tongue at him and picked the rope back up. He retied his wrists, much tighter than they had been, and left the belt in place.

“When I get out of this, Hosea..” Dutch tested the new knots and gritted his teeth. _Not getting out of them this time_.

“I’m going to choose to ignore that, Dutch. Next time you want a young woman, find a whore. And don’t bring her home this time either. Not that I don’t love Abigail and young Jack.” He picked the crop back up and left a few welts on Dutch’s chest. “You really gonna be satisfied raising horses and cattle? I’ve found land, Dutch. But are you ready?”

Hosea slapped him. Hard. Bitch-slapped him, actually. “Well?” 

“That is different.” Dutch was panting, not quite ready to yield. Hosea shook his head and looked down at him.

“Let’s see if you change your tune. You will if you want to know about that land.” Dutch’s eyes widened at the words.

“You wouldn’t.” Hosea leaned about an inch from his nose.

“I would. Now, you’re gonna be a good boy, and do as you’re told.” The whisper made him shiver. Hosea had him. And good.

“Yes, sir.” Dutch looked down, not overall impressed with the situation but enjoying it nonetheless. Hosea grinned at him. 

“I suppose I could have led with that, but it was so much more fun this way, Dutch.” Hosea lifted his chin and pressed the front of his pants to Dutch’s cheek. “You’re not gonna forget this anytime soon.”

Dutch closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He heard the sound of Hosea unclipping his suspenders and knew the nature of what was to come. 

“One part of you seems to be enjoying this, at least.” The words were gruff, followed by a tug on the wretched makeshift collar. Dutch grunted as Hosea pushed his cock into his mouth. “That ass of yours is mine.”

 _Oh shit_. Hosea was right, he wasn’t going to be forgetting this soon. Dutch gagged, eyes starting to water ever so slightly when Hosea pulled him off an pushed onto the ground. Calloused hands positioned him perfectly for Hosea’s access: ass in the air, cheek pressed against the floor so Dutch could see behind him.

“I bet I won’t even have to touch you to get you off, that you spill faster than a young boy on his first romp with a girl.” Hosea’s words were likely true. _I’ll be damned if I admit it, however._ A slap on the ass startled him. “What, no yarn to spin now, hm?”

“You son of a bitch,” was all Dutch could manage. Hosea thrust inside him, his passage eased slightly by a lubricant Dutch didn’t have the privilege of seeing.

“You’d do well to mind your manners, boy. Goddamn you are tight.” He watched as Hosea closed his eyes, continuing to press deeper and deeper. Dutch felt almost nauseous until Hosea snapped his hips forward and pleasure exploded through him. He couldn’t help but push back against Hosea, even though he’d regret it later.

“Dirty little slut, you. Like that cock splitting you in half, don’t you, Dutch?” Hands pushed down on his back when he didn’t answer, making him more uncomfortable. Hosea pounded into him mercilessly, clutching his hair. “Well?”

“Yes, Hosea.” The words barely made it through gritted teeth. Hosea chuckled.

“Good enough.” The pressure on the small of his back receded. He breathed a sigh of relief until Hosea gripped his narrow hips and thrust into him hard and fast. Dutch squirmed under the pressure mounting in the pit of his stomach, his last bit of pride trying to hold off his orgasm. He couldn’t help a moan that escaped him and he heard Hosea chuckle.

“Filthy little whore.” The voice was closer this time, hot breath on his face and neck. Dutch couldn’t hold back anymore, groaning when the waves of his release shook him to the core. “And look at that, you’re lucky I let you.”

Dutch couldn’t help a whine at that. He was overstimulated and could barely tell up from down. Distantly, he felt Hosea stutter and stop. A warm sensation filled him that could only be his cum and the rope was cut from his wrists.

Hosea jerked him to his feet and slapped him once more, effectively snapping Dutch out of his revere.

“Hosea..” Dutch still held the tone of warning.

“Dutch. What you did was very wrong. Don’t forget it, and don’t do it again. if I find out you act so foolishly.. I’ll make sure you don’t enjoy the punishment in the slightest.” Hosea left him then. He knew what he had done was of questionable morality, but hated admitting his faults. He definitely wouldn’t do something of that nature in the future. Dressing, he picked up a cigar and settled to think. If Hosea had found some land, the realization of their dream was almost within their grasp.

“Dutch! Dutch I have something for you. An O’Driscoll boy dropped it in the dirt and ran off before I could ask him any questions.” Lenny’s voice was full of alarm. Dutch exited his tent,  _this can’t be good news._

An envelope was handed to him, his name scribbled roughly on the front. Dutch recognized Colm’s handwriting immediately. He tore it open to find a lock of dirty blond hair and a page from Arthur’s journal. It was an amazingly accurate picture of Dutch with one line scribbled at the bottom, also by Colm:

_“I have a new toy.”_  


	27. Chapter 27

Chaos ensued. 

_Arthur has been taken._ Dutch’s fear had been realized. He had sent Bill and Lenny after the O’Driscoll, anxiously anticipating their return. Less than twenty minutes later, they returned with a body on Bill’s horse.

“Bring him to me.” Dutch was numb, they had to find Arthur, and quickly. One of the reasons he stopped running with Colm was his fancy for savagery.

“What do you know about this, boy?” 

“N-n-nothin’ sir. I’m j-jus’ a horse hand. I’m shocked they chose me.” The man shook in his boots in front of Dutch.

“Probably because Colm expected me to kill you, and you mean nothing to him. Where is he? Where did they take Arthur?” Dutch slapped him for good measure.

“I-I don’t know who that is. They don’t tell me nothin’.” 

“You better tell me something useful or I’ll kill you where you stand, O’Driscoll.” Dutch was about ready to do just that out of rage.

“Wait! There’s a place out in West Elizabeth that sometimes Colm will take prisoners to, I can show you on a map.” Dutch wasted no time and dragged the boy to his tent. He cut the rope around the O’Driscoll’s wrists. 

“Well?” Dutch was ready to gut the fool. 

“Here!” He pointed with conviction to a hideout in Big Valley. 

“String this feller up where we had Micah, I’ll deal with him when I get back. Bill, Lenny, Hosea, we need to get going, and we’re gonna have to scope the place, bring your best long scoped rifles. John, Charles, Javier and Sean, you’re likely gonna be circling round back so make sure you have throwing knives or arrows.” 

“Dutch, I’m coming with you, we need the firepower.” Susan said matter-of-factly. Dutch looked at her. 

“Change out of those clothes, put on a hat then let’s go. Come on boys!” Dutch cried, heading back to his tent for the rest of his weapons. He chose a long scoped Springfield rifle and his bow. 

“You ready?” Hosea’s voice came to him. Dutch emerged and strode to the Count. 

“Yes. Alright everyone, mount up and let’s go!” He surveyed his family. There were nine of them riding out. Dutch swung onto the Count who pranced a circle, sensing his rider’s tension. 

They rode hard. Dutch shook with rage at the thought of Colm’s idea of having Arthur as his “toy”. He prayed he could get there in time. 

Afternoon faded into evening with the thunder of hooves. Each rider was tired when they finally neared the homestead. Stopping in the trees across from the clearing, they scoped out the place. 

“Theres a lot of guards, Dutch.” Hosea warned. 

“Gatlin’ gun up top.” Sean added. 

“We need to circle around back and see if there’s any way we can secure the barn. I’ll bet Arthur is in there.” Charles added quietly. 

“Alright, Charles, you take Bill, Javier and Lenny, we need this done silently. We’ll get in cover at the front gates and side. Chances are they’re waitin’ for us. Alright boys, let’s bring Arthur home and finish this once and for all. Whatever happens, I want Colm alive.” Dutch instructed the group quickly, gesturing and checking for reactions. Hosea nodded his approval. Charles headed off with his group and Dutch blew air into his cheeks, waiting for the sound of gunfire. A hand settled on his forearm. 

“We’ll get him back, Dutch.” Hosea’s voice was quiet and reassuring. 

“Hosea, we need to be careful. Colm knows we’ll both come for him. What do you think?” Dutch desperately wanted the man’s input. 

“Plans a good one. Think John and I should flank the place and you and Sean go in all nonchalant. They haven’t heard them yet, so this will distract their attention.” Hosea’s eyes shone in the moonlight. Dutch reached forward and brought him roughly against his lips. Hosea yielded to him immediately before he broke the kiss abruptly, placing his hand on Dutch’s cheek with a silent promise.

Dutch and Sean waited together as Hosea, Susan and John headed off silently to flank each side of the ranch. He waited until they were out of his line of sight before signalling to Sean to follow his lead. 

After a deep breath he stood and strode quickly to the pair of guards on watch. 

“Hello, gentlemen!” Dutch called, catching their attention once he was a few horse-lengths from them. 

“Who’re you?” The guard sneered at them.“Wait- that’s-“ The second guard raised his rifle and Sean fired first, followed by Dutch silencing the first ignorant fool. _Idiots._ They sprinted forward as gunshots exploded from every direction. Sliding behind a stack of crates, Dutch eyed Sean, who’d taken place behind a wagon. The lively redhead was popping off shots with vigour. Dutch peeked over and fired off several shots, two of which hit their mark. _Bastards are everywhere_.

Suddenly, Dutch heard the unmistakeable rattle of the machine gun in the hayloft of the barn. He risked a peak and saw John manning the gun, wiping out the majority of the O’Driscoll’s that remained in the process. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a man jump on a horse and head for the hills. _Oh no you don’t, Colm._. Dutch whistled for his steed and started running. 

“Cover me!” Dutch screamed over the clamour of the Gatling gun. 

Th Count rushed into the chaos, sliding to Dutch’s side with a worried whinny. He jumped on his mount and spurred him hard after Colm, making a mental note to give him a few sugar cubes later. Dutch thundered after Colm with a vengeance that extended far beyond anything he’d ever felt. Annabelle, now Arthur.  _You're not getting away this time._

“Think you can catch me huh, Dutch? Damage is done!” Colm’s hysterical laughter floated back to him. Dutch roared and clapped his heels hard against his horse’s side, asking him for more. His mount obliged and the space between the two horses slowly closed. Dutch ducked, bullets whizzed by as Colm shot back at him wildly. 

Lasso in hand, he waited until Colm turned to waste more bullets and lifted his arm once he turned to reload. Dutch twirled the loop a few times before flicking the loop forward. He roared in delight as Colm turned to fire another shot and was shocked to find a lasso settling around his torso. Dutch jerked his mount to a stop, yanking Colm off his horse and dismounting to hogtie the bastard. 

“Colm O’Driscoll. Been a long time, old friend.” Dutch smiled at the poor fool and brought his boot down hard on the side of his head. 

As much as he hated the idea of actually having to touch Colm, Dutch hauled him onto his horse and sped off toward the homestead. _God, let Arthur be okay._. The gunfire had stopped, and he could still see John standing in the hayloft. 

With a clatter of hooves, Dutch slid into the ranch yard. He hopped off his horse and began shouting. 

“Arthur! Arthur where the Hell are you?” His voice betrayed the terror he felt, cracking several times as he rushed toward the barn. Charles came into view in the dim doorway and pointed to the house. 

“Charles. Guard Colm. He’s...” Dutch gestured to his horse and ran to the small home. He burst inside to find Arthur seated on a bed with Hosea and Susan. Dutch’s heart sank when he saw the bleeding gashed and bruises on his son. He rushed forward and sat beside Arthur, opposite to Hosea. 

“Son.” Dutch wrapped his arms around Arthur. “I’m so sorry.” 

“S’okay, Dutch. Did ya catch him?” Arthur’s voice was hoarse and tired. He was wrapped in a blanket and shivering, only torn trousers underneath.

“Yeah. Let’s get you home. We’ll be taking the sonovabitch with us.. I have a bone or two to pick with him before I send shepherd him to eternity.” Dutch and Hosea helped Arthur outside and into a wagon that was on the property. As he climbed up, Dutch held his hand and noticed several fingerprint-like bruises on his hips and arms. The blanket slipped and showed savage bite marks on his neck and shoulders. 

_Colm O’Driscoll, you are going to pay_.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly? The next chapter gonna be savage AFFFFF. Also, I’m planning a trip to Tahiti. Literally. 🥭

“Colm O’Driscoll.. Tied up in my camp, next to your useless horsehand. What’s your name boy? Boy!” Now that Dutch had Arthur back within his protection, he had returned to his usual demeanour. He dealt with rage boiling right beneath the surface of his carefully constructed façade, but today was different. Retaliation for killing Com’s brother was one thing. That he understood. He likely would have done the same, Dutch mused as he looked into Colm’s eyes. 

“K-K-Kieran.. sir..Kieran Duffy.” Given the circumstances, the poor fool was terrified. Dutch took pity on him, but not enough to not put the fear of God into him for his poor choices. 

“Well, Kieran Duffy, how does it feel to be strung up beside your “leader”? He can’t help you now. Isn’t that the job of a leader, Colm? To protect those who ride under his name?” Dutch turned to to the boy and continued coolly, “Do you notice, boy, that he is gagged, and you are not?” 

Dutch watched as Kieran looked to Colm, who was bound to the same tree by a single rope that held his wrists together behind his back before looping over a low hanging branch. He was bent forward at an odd angle as there was no slack in the rope, snarling nonsensical curses from behind his gag. 

“I-I-I didn’t wanna say somethin’..” The poor fool mumbled at Dutch’s feet, causing him to smile. Unsheathing his knife, he moved in front of Colm. The wicked smile stayed in place as Dutch pressed the tip of the knife to the soft spot on the underside of the man’s chin and lifted it, forcing Colm to look him in the eye. 

“Did you hear what happened to the last man that crossed me? He was tied to this very tree, Colm.” Dutch lifted his chin slightly and looked down his nose at the man, who was trembling in anger. Adrenaline was still coursing through Dutch, his breathing coming in quick, shallow breaths through slightly parted lips. 

“But first? First we will leave you here...I got a saying, Colm... We shoot fellers as need shooting.. save fellers as need saving.. and feed 'em as need feedin’. We're gonna find out what you need. Give you some time to get good and sore, hungry and dehydrated. You should take the opportunity to reflect on your sins, repent them. Whatever God exists will be judging you soon enough.” Dutch let the man’s head fall, noticing a few drops of blood on the edge of the blade. A quick swipe of the blade on his pant leg and he moved to face Kieran. 

“And you. What should we do with you, son?” Dutch tilted his head. 

“Please don’t kill me, all I did was follow orders, I only been ridin’ with ‘em for a month or more now.” The boys eyes were wide as he spoke rapidly. Dutch reached for his knife and spoke slowly. 

“I’m not going to kill you, but you may want to rethink who you put your faith in, son. This man is wretched.” He stepped forward and cut Kieran’s bindings, almost laughing as he fell face first into the dirt. The unlucky fool scrambled to his feet and all but grovelled at Dutch’s feet. 

“Thank you, so much. Can I...stay here with you? Out there I’m dead by any of his boys.” The youngster gestured at Colm and looked at Dutch with pleading eyes. 

“For now. One slip up, though, and you’ll regret it.” Dutch dismissed him with a wave of his hand and approached Colm once again. The man glared at him through dirty hair.

“Let me tell you a story, Colm. As a good host, I like to provide entertainment for my guests.” Dutch laughed as Colm sneered at him. “Oh, don’t be so sour, old friend. All of our deeds catch up with us eventually. Yours just happen to do so sooner rather than later.” 

He slowly stepped around the man, chuckling as he went. “Micah Bell? I’m sure you know him.” Dutch paused as recognition hit Colm’s eyes, “Yes. Yes you do.. He was one of my own, and a traitor. Do you want to know what I did to him? I branded him. My name, on his chest. How would you like to sport a similar scar?”

Colm roared from behind the gag and lurched at him. Dutch lazily drew his pistol and slapped him with the barrel.

“Now, now.. Is that anyway to behave? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, you don’t look as if you’ve bathed in the last month, nor changed your clothes. If ever. You are a rabid animal, and you will not get the privilege to be put down like one.” Dutch stilled and focused on Colm’s eyes. He could see the hate and fear within _theme. I am going to make this the single, worst experience of your life.._ A smile cracked his face like a bolt of lighting and he pointed his Schofield at Colm’s knee and fired.

A muffled scream brought him sone satisfaction as Colm buckled, but was forced to remain standing because of the rope holding him awkwardly. Dutch holstered the weapon and stepped forward and swung his right leg as hard as he could, connecting with Colm on the thigh just above his injured knee. Colm screamed again and Dutch chuckled some more. 

“Alright boys, have your fun. Don’t kill him just yet.” Dutch turned and headed to his tent where Arthur was resting. Hosea intercepted him. 

“He just fell asleep, Dutch, it’s best you leave him.” Hosea held a hand out to ward him off, a sad expression in his eyes. “He’s in real rough shape.” 

“Did you see-?” 

“Yeah I saw. Colm is a sick man.” Hosea shook his head and settled his hands on his hips. “Let’s have a drink, somethin’ to eat maybe. You haven’t eaten today.” 

Dutch was ushered to the campfire and given a bottle of whiskey by Hosea before he headed off to fetch him some dinner. Across the camp, Susan had brought out her whip, snapping it close to Colm’s feet and laughing when he tried to jerk away from the chord. 

A bowl of steaming meat and veggies was held in front of his nose. 

“Mm, thank you Hosea..” Dutch closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.  _Smells marvellous._

“Eat up and try to relax.” Hosea set his hand on Dutch’s shoulder and with a caring smile, walked off.

_Snap._ The crack of the whip brought his attention back to Colm. Unsurprisingly enough, Colm was watching him laze beside the campfire. Dutch smiled an unnerving smile and slowly lifted the spoon to his lips. Ever so carefully, he too a bite. _Snap._  He laughed. This couldn’t be more perfect.

“Dutch!!” Arthur’s voice rang out, capturing Dutch’s attention. Without thinking, he dropped the bowl in his hands and rushed for his tent. Upon entering, Arthur was curled in the fetal position on his cot, shaking and clutching Dutch’s pillow as if it were a lifeline. 

“Arthur? Arthur, I am right here.” Dutch took Arthur in his arms and held him tight, stroking his cheek and praying silently that he could soothe Arthur through this ordeal. 

“Please no-! I-Dutch!?” Arthur’s eyes were still closed and Dutch was beginning to feel desperate. How could he pull Arthur back to reality? 

“Arthur I’m right here. You’re safe. Please wake up, nothing will hurt you now. I will make sure nothing will ever hurt you.” He was ready to break. This was his fault. Dutch’s breath caught in his throat as Arthur’s eyelids fluttered and opened. 

“Oh.. that’s pretty, Dutch..” Arthur chuckled and a single tear fell from Dutch’s eye before he also laughed. 

“My boy, you worried me for a minute there. Are you okay now?” His tone was low and even, but on the inside, Dutch was damn near in a panic. 

“M’ok, Dutch.” Arthur was still shaking, covered in a thin film of sweat. Dutch wrapped his arms around Arthur tightly. 

“He will not get away with this Arthur. I’m going to make him wish he was never born. By the sounds of it, Susan is still enjoying whipping him. I feel the need to give him a brand the same as Micah’s, along with several other things. Colm O’Driscoll will rue the day he put a hand on you.” A deep sigh rocked Dutch’s chest asArthur cuddled into his chest and was soon asleep. 

Soft rustling almost made Dutch jump as Hosea poked his head in, “Everything okay?” 

“Is Colm bleeding?” Dutch spoke on an exhaled breath. 

Hosea smiled, “In several places...” 

“Go pour some alcohol on his wounds and beat him some.” Dutch looked at Hosea out of the corner of his narrowed eye, the words barely audible on his breath. 

“Alright Dutch. You take care of him.” Hosea’s head disappeared, shortly followed by some intense screaming. 

A sigh rocked Dutch as he pondered his idea to finally teach Colm his lesson. The man was going to spend some time suffering at his hands, that was for sure


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ladies and gents! Sorry it’s been so long, I’ve just started red dead online 😅 feel free to add me on PSN IHaveAGoddamPlan

A bloody Colm had become a staple in their camp. Dutch had sent Abigail and Jack to Saint Denis with a stack of bills and request that she take Jack to a moving picture and buy him some new books for their trouble. Abigail looked fairly distraught but thanked him. 

“You rid this world of that wretched man, Dutch van der Linde. Me and the boy like spendin’ time in the city. Mind if John comes along? We haven’t spent a whole lot of time together since all that Micah business.” Abigail looked at him earnestly. 

“Of course, Miss. You don’t need to ask.” Dutch smiled at her warmly and turned, locking eyes with Colm. It’d been almost two weeks and the man was barely alive. He’d been sure to allow just enough water for him to survive, and no food. Dutch strode across the camp and stood in front of the man, who had long been retied in a standing position. His feet were unbound, but a noose looped around his neck to the higher branches. Dutch had made sure his hands were bound tightly, taking the time to individually wrap and tie the rope around each wrist himself before connecting them behind the tree with a strong knot. No way he would be getting out of that. 

“S’time then, huh?” Arthur’s voice was low and close to his ear. Dutch nodded and turned to look at him. The bruises had started to fade, barely showing signs of yellowish discolouration. His body had healed, but Arthur was still having nightmares. He hadn’t slept in his own tent since the ordeal and likely wasn’t going to for a long time. 

Dutch mused on the plan he had been working on. The Pinkertons had been searching for them since Micah, sending the occasional patrol out. Sitting with Hosea, they had decided that they would approach Milton in his private home outside Blackwater and see if they could make a deal. They already had Colm, why not make some use of his death? 

“The three of us will ride out at sunset. Ironically enough, he lives not far from here. Hosea, my evil genius, followed the daft man home a few times the last week and scoped out the place while he wasn’t. Will be very simple. I think we will bring Colm and have Bill, Charles and Javier guard him nearby.” Dutch was sure Milton would take his offer. This would be a prize for the fool. Colm will be hanged and Dutch would be willing to sign damn near anything to get his family out of this life. 

“Ya don’ think O’Driscoll’s are waiting for us to leave with him?” Arthur inquired. 

“There ain’t no doubt about that. That’s why we are gonna send Lenny and Sean off the scout the road first. This has to be done right. We can take an alternate route if need be.” Dutch nodded to himself and looked to Arthur. 

“You ain’t leavin’ me outta this, Dutch.” Arthur glared at him, his chest puffing slightly. 

“That goes without saying, son. I need you at my side when Hosea and I negotiate with Milton. This will be a very delicate operation. He lives alone, at least.” Dutch set a hand on Arthur’s shoulder fondly before making his way to his tent to think to himself. To his surprise, Hosea was sitting on his cot, indulging in Dutch’s copy of the American Inferno. 

Closing the tent behind him, he settled beside his old friend with a muted grunt. “Think this will be it, Hosea?” 

“I dunno, Dutch. We’re walking into a situation that has so many possible outcomes. Milton likes glory, though. We can use that.” Hosea set the book aside and rose. Together they slowly ambled toward the horses. Dutch blew air into his cheeks. 

“The fool better take the deal or he will be made an example of also...” Anger seeped from his words as his fingers curled into fists at his sides. 

“Dutch. It would speak volumes to leave him alive with Colm, whether he be dead or alive is irrelevant, than to kill him. Why mar our name any further?” Cool grey eyes regarded him with a wisdom and confidence that only age could bring. Dutch sighed. 

“As long as neither of you end up in a situation that is only resolved in violence, Milton will survive. I hope he takes our deal, Hosea.” Dutch looked to the ground and sighed again, he was becoming tired. They all needed a vacation. No law, no worries, no goddamn nonsense. 

The sun was beginning to slip beyond the horizon, leaving streaks or deep orange and purple in its wake. The wagon had been prepared to transport Colm alive. Lenny and Bill had outfitted one of the seats with several metal O rings to attach his bindings to. 

“I worry, Hosea. I worry about you, about all of them, sometimes even myself.” Dutch scuffed the toe of his boot in the dry dirt and looked to his old friend. They had started to do a lazy circle of the camp. Hosea looked at him. 

“It’s only natural, Dutch. You assume responsibility for them, of course you’re gonna worry.” His voice was calm and soothing. A deep breath rocked Dutch, Hosea always seemed to have a relaxing effect on his usually volatile personality. 

“I can’t bear to lose you.” At that, Hosea turned to him, eyes searching his in the wavering light of the evening. Before either of them could think the better of it, Dutch pulled Hosea against his chest and kissed him deeply. Twenty years of lust, longing, and all the angst that goes along with those hidden emotions erupted between them. 

Two wiry, strong hands came to rest on his hips as he invaded Hosea’s mouth with his tongue. One of his hands cupped Hosea’s cheek gently, the other on his hip, securing him tightly against Dutch. Fire spiked along his nerves when Hosea groaned into his lips, cock stirring in his pants. 

“I’m going to treat you to a surprise when we return, my darling.” Dutch purred the words into Hosea’s ear, smirking when the words sent a shiver through the man. “Let’s get this done.” 

Dutch strode over to Colm who was watching him with hate and disgust. He could clearly tell the sick sonovabitch wanted to speak. 

“Judgement time, son.” He cut the ropes binding Colm to the tree and laughed when he fell face first into the dirt, hardly able to support his own weight. Dutch kneeled beside him. “After I use you as a bargaining chip I’ll promise to eradicate every last man who rides under your name. Everything you built has come to an end, Colm.” 

The man swung at Dutch, causing Hosea and Arthur to both laugh. Arthur grabbed him by the hair and started dragging him to the wagon. 

“Now that ain’t no way to treat a gentleman.” Arthur’s growled words floated back to him and Hosea’s laugh could be heard all across camp.

“He’s got a good sense of humour, that boy.” Dutch couldn’t help but laugh with him and they both watched Arthur fix Colm to the seat inside the wagon. 

“Alright Lenny, Sean off you go!” Dutch hollered to the boys, who’s been waiting atop their horses for a few minutes now. Each second that went by made Dutch more and more anxious. A half an hour later they returned with an all clear. 

An uneasy feeling was beginning to spread through him as he mounted the Count. Hosea and Arthur followed suit and they set off across the plain. The wind felt good against his face as the rode off into the night, leaving the other with instruction to follow and wait in the forest on the outside of Milton’s property quietly. 

Milton’s homestead was surprisingly humble, a long one story house with a barn large enough to fit a small wagon and a horse or two. They rode up to find the place very quiet. Dutch dismounted and gave his horse a swat on the rump, sending him off into the darkness. 

Arthur found an open window and they all slipped inside before Milton returned from his job in Blackwater. The home had only one door, making this a fabulous set up for their little ambush. Delicately, he looked around the modest home. He hadn’t expected such a simple style in decor. 

Dutch’s head snapped up at the pattern of lazy hoofbeats. Arthur and Hosea took position on each side of the door, Hosea being on the side where the door would obscure him from Milton’s like of sight. Arthur loaded a bolt action rifle and pointed it at the door, Hosea had both of his revolvers unholstered and stepped back, also aiming at the door. Soft footsteps announced the man’s approach and a key turned the lock. The door swung open and Hosea stepped out of its way, as it hit the wall. 

Dutch was leaning counter, one hand on his belt, the other deftly holding a burning cigar. He looked at Milton from under the brim of his hat and spoke with a smugness that stemmed from the entirely shocked look on the man’s face as he regarded Dutch standing comfortably in his private home. 

“Hello, Andrew.”


	30. Chapter 30

Dutch couldn’t help a self assured smile as he watched the agent swallow against a lump in his throat. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. van der Linde?” He turned to Hosea and Arthur in turn, “Mr. Matthew’s, I presume. And ah, Arthur Morgan, van der Linde’s most trusted associate.” The scorn was plain in the man’s expression and tone. To his own credit, he sauntered closer to Dutch, trying to mask his apprehension of walking away from the only exit.

“I want to strike a deal, Andrew.” Dutch dropped the words between them with a finality that left little question as to whether he thought that Milton would agree to his offer. Granted, Dutch wouldn’t have an issue leaving both Colm and Milton dead in this quaint little cabin. Would have preferred it, actually. Though, that was an issue to explore another time. 

“A deal?” Milton laughed incredulously. “What could you possibly have that I want? Unless you’ll be turning yourself in?”

Dutch chuckled at this. “No, but I do have someone to offer you, and also a promise, if you’re willing to make an agreement with me.” He watched as the man considered this. The line of his body tensed as Hosea pushed the door closed softly with his foot, effectively cutting off any slim chance of escape if Milton tried to make a run for it. The man visibly paled and asked: 

“Who? And what is the promise?” His voice was tight with fear and indignation. Dutch could tell he was a proud man, but intelligent enough to know they had him. One man without a gun in his hand was no match for two that already had their guns drawn on him. Dutch stuck the cigar between his teeth and drew his revolver and moved slowly, deliberately, until he was directly in front of Milton. Swiftly, he removed the man’s pistol and deposited it gently on the counter he had been leaning on. While he was distracted, Arthur sidestepped between him and the exit. 

“I can give you Colm O’Driscoll. Alive, wrapped in a pretty bow. As for my promise? I want peace. I want to buy some land and become a ‘contributing member of society,’ as it were.” Dutch removed his hat and set it on top of Milton’s weapon. He watched as the man’s eyes narrowed, and Dutch raised his chin. “And in exchange, you will leave me and my family alone.” 

Milton blew air into his cheeks, “And if I refuse?” 

“What do you think, Mr. Milton? I don’t want to leave you dead here with Colm, but if it’s necessary, I will. I want my family to have a chance.” Dutch tilted his head and regarded Milton with an expression of complete sincerity. 

“I don’t want to kill your family, Dutch. Just you.” Milton spoke the words with the level of contempt Dutch harbored for Colm, and he knew that this was going to be more difficult than he had originally planned. The agent walked to a cupboard that held many fancy bottles of booze. He selected a fine bottle of brandy and set it on the table. Hosea moved around the back of Dutch, steel in his eyes. 

“What if,” Dutch moved toward Milton and sat in a chair at the table, gesturing for him to follow suit, “I help you remove other undesirables from the state? The O’Driscoll’s, Skinner Brothers, Del Lobos, should I go on? I have a certain,” He rotated his hand in thought. “Ability, to find people and deal with them appropriately. I understand that you’re bound by the confines of being a government agent and cannot necessarily use the same tactics to extract information from people who aren’t necessarily willing to volunteer it.” 

During this speech, Milton had drawn four glasses from the cupboard and sat. Four drinks were poured and he paused, staring down at the bottle. All of the sudden, he looked to Dutch, slid the drink across the table and spoke quietly. “I can’t speak for the agency, unfortunately. But I do know, if you can do something for us as a sign of good faith, then I could possibly put your offer to the higher-ups. I don’t think Colm would be considered valuable enough, however. Truthfully, it’s a miracle the bumbling bastard has made it this far.” 

Hosea spoke for the first time, “What, or who, would be considered valuable enough?” Dutch kept his eyes on Milton as the man turned to Hosea and considered his question. 

“Angelo Bronte. Dead.” 

 

An hour later, they had returned to camp, leaving Lenny and Sean to make sure Milton didn’t follow them or immediately head to Blackwater. They had decided to keep Colm with them for a bit longer, not wanting to play that card too soon. It may not have been according to Dutch’s original plan, but he could still be used after they found this Bronte and dealt with him respectively. Milton had gone on to explain how Bronte was controlling the law in Saint Denis and breeding fear and crime in the streets.

Dutch sat with Hosea on his cot discussing the Bronte situation. “I never thought we would end up errand boys. Hosea I don’t like this.” 

“What choice do we have? I want everyone safe before I... Well, I just don’t want to worry no more, Dutch.” Hosea shook his head. “It don’t feel right to me either. Feels like we’ve turned into a bunch of killers. Doesn’t matter who gives the orders.” 

A thought occurred to Dutch, “What if they don’t honor their deal? What if we do what they say, then they kill us anyway?” 

Hosea’s eyes were sad. “We have to try.” 

Dutch rubbed his eyes roughly, exhaustion starting to set in. A deep sigh rocked him. “We need to feed Colm if we want him to stay alive.” 

“Yes, we do. Let’s slide a chair and table over and let him use his hands. Leave the noose on him and have Arthur and Bill supervise.” Hosea nodded to himself and called for the boys. Dutch instructed them to do as Hosea had suggested, then approached Colm. 

“Well, old friend, looks like you’ll get to enjoy our hospitality for a little while longer. I must say, this is rather entertaining. Bind him to the chair.” Dutch loved this far too much. Having Colm at his mercy was feeding him with a dizzying power that did some strange things to his state of mind as well as his body. 

“Pearson, bring me some stew and a spoon, if you please.” An evil smile slowly spread across his face as he sat on the table beside Colm. Pearson handed him a metal dish of steaming food, in which Dutch promptly spit into before setting it beside him and drawing his knife. He cut the gag off of Colm. 

“You’ll die, Dutch. My boys will come for me and you will die, slowly and painfully. Maybe I’ll have my way with you like I did with your precious Arthur.” Colm’s voice was nasally and weak, making Dutch chuckle. 

“Hungry, son? I’m sure you’d like nothing more than to have your way with me. All those years ago, poking fun at my manner of speaking, love of literature and the finer things in life? It’s a classic case of grudging admiration, denial. Eat.” Dutch shoved the spoon in his mouth when Colm opened it, causing him to smirk smugly. After a few more spoonfuls, Dutch passed the bowl back to Pearson. “That’s enough for now. You haven’t had a scrap of food in two weeks, you don’t want to be retching that back up. Now, we’ll leave you in this chair for now, behave yourself or you’ll be gagged and strung back up like a goddamn turkey.” 

“Faggot!” Colm spat at him. 

Dutch had already turned and taken a few steps away from him but stopped and turned. 

“Bill, string him back up but leave his right arm loose. When you’re done, secure it between yourself and Arthur with the inside of the forearm bared for my access please. No gag.” Dutch stared him down. 

“You’ll pay for this Dutch! You will not get away with this!” His stoic expression didn’t change. It didn’t take Bill very long to tie Colm in the position that Dutch had instructed. Dutch withdrew his knife slowly and approached his bared forearm. Without a word, he gently wrapped his fingers around Colm’s wrist just below where Bill held him fast. 

He firmly pressed the tip of his knife into the skin just below his own fingers. Colm hissed as Dutch slowly and meticulously carved his first name into the soft skin of his inner arm. 

“Now, you behave yourself or I will continue.” Dutch turned Colm’s arm so he could see the deep cuts, now openly bleeding. Dutch dropped his arm and savagely brought his fist against his cheek, leaving a dark red mark. 

Dutch turned and strode to his tent, he had a surprise to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadistic Dutch is my favourite 🙈

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Out Of The Grass](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18280259) by [sea_side](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea_side/pseuds/sea_side)




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